Rain 
Like tin angels falling 
down 
Like a mission and we're 
halfway there 
From some old dried up 
fried forgotten town 
Why 
Won't they let us be ourselves 
With our potential we 
could toe the line 
And show the bastards up 
with our divine 
Light 

Seize 
All the records from the past 
Hold for ransom all the artifacts 
This ragged town protects 
them to the last 
With lies 

See them running heading 
homeward to Seattle 

Deem 
All the liars in your tribe 
To be the fires on the 
western side 
Of some old front we call 
the war of art 
Rain 
Like tin angels falling 
down 
Like a mission and we're 
halfway there 
From some old dried up 
fried forgotten town 
From some old dried up 
fried forgotten town 
To some old dried up fried 
forgotten 
Town