So many songs about angels It seems God makes 'em with his hands So I guess this mess of falling angels Must fit his immortal plans How every flower should open How every crippled bird should fly And a cry of love from the deepest darkest oceans Flies up through his brightest broken skies I can't point no fingers You can't do nothing more to me See here's my broken hammer (Can't play my A flat) But I'm still playin' in that key And in the holy saint's asylum There's this patron for lost souls Who've perjured grail for money Mammon's kingdom and his power All is painted glory Oh yeah glory holds a key But here's this broken hammer (can't fix this old piano) Seems sometimes you can't get enough of me . . . hurting As the hammer hits the key But if God could make them angels With only mud and dust and sand Making blood from living water Man, I think I'd understand He'd be in every flower that opens He'd be the first new breath of spring In the bird song high in the skies sailing clear across the oceans Some hear his voice in every bell that rings They say it's God who made the angels From infinity and sand But if Heaven made the angels Who in hell made man? If God could make angels If God could make angels... ... Why in hell make man?