Lyrics Back Door Angels - Jethro Tull
                                                In 
                                                and 
                                                out 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                front 
                                                door,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Ran 
                                                twelve 
                                                back-door 
                                                angels.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Their 
                                                hair 
                                                was 
                                                    a 
                                                golden-brown
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                didn't 
                                                see 
                                                me 
                                                wink 
                                                my 
                                                eye.
 
                                    
                                
                                                'Tis 
                                                said 
                                                they 
                                                put 
                                                we 
                                                men 
                                                to 
                                                sleep
 
                                    
                                
                                                With 
                                                just 
                                                    a 
                                                whisper,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                touch 
                                                the 
                                                heads 
                                                of 
                                                dying 
                                                dogs
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                make 
                                                them 
                                                linger.
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                carry 
                                                their 
                                                candles 
                                                high
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                they 
                                                light 
                                                the 
                                                dark 
                                                hours.
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                sweep 
                                                all 
                                                the 
                                                country 
                                                clean
 
                                    
                                
                                                With 
                                                pressed 
                                                and 
                                                scented 
                                                wild-flowers.
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                grow 
                                                all 
                                                their 
                                                roses 
                                                red,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                paint 
                                                our 
                                                skies 
                                                blue
 
                                    
                                
                                                Drop 
                                                one 
                                                penny 
                                                in 
                                                every 
                                                second 
                                                bowl
 
                                    
                                
                                                Make 
                                                half 
                                                the 
                                                beggars 
                                                lose,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Why 
                                                do 
                                                the 
                                                faithful 
                                                have 
                                                such 
                                                    a 
                                                will
 
                                    
                                
                                                To 
                                                believe 
                                                in 
                                                something?
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                call 
                                                it 
                                                the 
                                                name 
                                                they 
                                                choose,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Having 
                                                chosen 
                                                nothing.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Think 
                                                I'll 
                                                sit 
                                                down 
                                                and 
                                                invent 
                                                some 
                                                fool
 
                                    
                                
                                                Some 
                                                Grand 
                                                Court 
                                                Jester.
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                next 
                                                time 
                                                the 
                                                die 
                                                is 
                                                cast,
 
                                    
                                
                                                He'll 
                                                throw 
                                                    a 
                                                six 
                                                or 
                                                two.
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                and 
                                                out 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                back-door 
                                                ran
 
                                    
                                
                                                One 
                                                front-door 
                                                angel,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Her 
                                                hair 
                                                was 
                                                    a 
                                                golden-brown
 
                                    
                                
                                                She 
                                                smiled 
                                                and 
                                                    I 
                                                think 
                                                she 
                                                winked 
                                                her 
                                                eye.
 
                                    
                                 
                            1 WarChild
2 Queen and Country
3 Ladies
4 Back Door Angels
5 Sealion
6 Skating Away (On the Thin Ice of the New Day) [2002 Remastered Version]
7 Bungle In The Jungle
8 Only Solitaire
9 The Third Hoorah
10 Two Fingers
11 WarChild Waltz
12 Quartet
13 Paradise Steakhouse
14 Sealion 2
15 Rainbow Blues
16 Glory Row
17 Saturation
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