Gnashing teeth where
We once saw only smiles
And claws that draw pain
Where glad hands were extended
Already gone are the people that wander
With hands cupped to 'er ears
Hear brothers that spite them
And see unfriendly faces
And bullets will strike them
But offer their backs while
A pistol lies waiting
There are angels
They are angels
Who see angels
All around them
Writer(s): Andrew Kenny
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