(Ian Hunter)
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Oh Angeline, I love you, your mouth is like a sting
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and when I close my eyes each night, I often hear you sing
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Imagination's hidden book, you wrote it on the wing
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And when I vowed to comfort you, well you swallowed everything
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Angeline, oh my Angeline
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My Sweet Angeline - you have rendered me unseen
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I would cry a million smiles for my Indian City queen
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Well your body it is broken in so many different ways
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And when I stoop to find your head, well it disappeared in haze.
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your blood flows like the finest juice - the kiss of burgundy
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and where it comes from no one knows, but where it's going I can't see
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Angeline, oh my Angeline
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My Sweet Angeline - (y'know) you have rendered me unseen
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I would cry a million smiles for my Indian City queen
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Angeline, oh my Angeline
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You little Angeline - you have rendered me unseen
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I would cry a million smiles for my Indian City queen
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And your crystal-coloured cardboard bins - attack me from the paint
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and I think that I am getting lost among the swollen states
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oh rescue me or bury me, for I care not what you do
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there is just one thing that I want to say am I really you
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Angeline, oh my Angeline
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My Sweet Angeline - you have rendered me unseen
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I would cry a million smiles for my Indian City queen
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Sweet Angeline
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| Mott the Hoople |
