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.