I Love My Angel's Plastic Wings

I love my angel's plastic wings, she loves my nice tight arse and things
She pawned her harp somewhere off Dalston Lane to buy A Love Supreme by John Coltrane
She said Heaven's okay but it gets as boring as sin
And here those red Rothko sunrises just do her in
She wears these contact-lenses make her look like a cat
She said I'm made out of moonlight I said I didn't know that
The crippled fiber glass kid with his collection box
She brought him to life so he could see how it rocks
He flung himself nine floors off a roof, landed face down on a passport photo booth
She's got a job waiting tables, she moves like a hearse
She said all angels are romantics but then devils are worse
She wears a dog-tag from a soldier killed in Vietnam
She's got Viva Eddie Constantine tattooed on her arm
And the mission-girls bring gifts of frankincense, myrrh and smack
But she's got everything she needs, she's an angel, she don't look back
She's got perfect rhythm, sometimes we fuck to a click-track
There's skateboarders twirling in the plaza
A slasher movie trailer on the pixel board
There's a backpacker punching at a laptop
And they're searching through a car wreck for an angel
I call her name from the rooftops through a megaphone
I see women looking like her and I follow them home
Last night I thought I saw her on the Ferris wheel
God's locked like Elvis in His mansion, it's hard to tell how he feels
So I stay home and play my bubblegum, listening for those wing beats that never ever come
On Lambeth Bridge the cars are queuing tail-to-tail
I'm gonna storm the walls of Heaven, hitch me a ride on some comet's tail