In and out of the front door, ran twelve back-door angels. Their hair was a golden-brown - They didnt see me wink my eye. `tis said they put we men to sleep with just a whisper, And touch the heads of dying dogs - and make them linger. They carry their candles high - and they light the dark hours. And sweep all the country clean with pressed and scented wild-flowers. They grow all their roses red, and paint our skies blue - Drop one penny in every second bowl - Make half the beggars lose, Why do the faithful have such a will to believe in something? And call it the name they choose, Having chosen nothing. Think Ill sit down and invent some fool - Some grand court jester. And next time the die is cast, hell throw a six or two. In and out of the back-door, ran one front-door angel, Her hair was a golden-brown - She smiled and I think she winked her eye.