Rode in the grip of an angel

Hands tied in cords of gold

We'd made a deal, I went astray

Now I'm falling with hell to pay



Rode in the grip of an angel

Occupied with thoughts of gold

I learned a dance on the head of a pin

It didn't save me from eternal sin



C Now I'm learning to fly by myself

Stealing my grain from the mouths of birds

Touch ground for an occasional birdbath

Crap on the heads of passers-by



"Fairy Land doesn't last forever. Making fun of my moping around and being

a pain in the arse, etc., etc. Another one of these flying songs. We've

actually dropped the lyrics on later versions. They're a bit obvious,

y'know."

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