Am E
Like a Mississippi Windchime in the breeze
Am
Danglin’ down from the sycamore tree.
E
Like a vessel of wrath shattered on the ground,
Am
Old Judge Lynch dropped the hammer down.
E Am
It’s dust to dust, to Angel Lust,
E Am
For St. Angeline. And you’re mine.
E
Two Easters left in my Christmas plow.
Am
I wouldn’t take a dollar for my journey now.
E
They put the “laughter” in slaughter, the “lie” in believe
Am
‘Cause my carbon footprint sinks six feet deep.
E Am
It’s dust to dust, to Angel Lust,
E Am
For St. Angeline. And you’re mine.
Piano solo: "no help here yet"
E
The LORD may condemn me but my baby forgives.
Am
She’ll meet me inside the final tent I pitch.
E
White water lillies in my funeral spray,
Am
Showered on my baby like a fine bouquet.
E Am
It’s dust to dust, to Angel Lust,
E Am
For St. Angeline. And you’re mine.
E
So cast your useless sabres aside.
Am
Make the Devil eat his hat and set your head on fire.
E
It all shakes out the same way in the end.
Am
The meat slides out in the shape of the can.
E Am
It’s dust to dust, to Angel Lust,
E Am
For St. Angeline. And you’re mine.
