(©Felix Pappalardi and Gail Collins 1971)

Put their shoulders to the big wheel, work their fingers to the bone
Take their pleasures in the future, put it down and bring it home
Walk around into the sundown, looking for an honest man
Gentle people seeing too much, aching to be what they can

Angels, tired angels
Tired down inside their shoes
All wanting grace
They live again rhythm lines on the king of Gondor's face
Children, gentle children
Gentle leaving to the wars
They found their place

And live again their rhythm lives on the king of Gondor's face
Sinking down into the lame words, overflowing with their sorrows
Praying for it all to cease fire, saturated with desire
Standing up to all the brave men, laughing hollow at the day's end
Walking back and give a handshake, this is just another bad break


Nantucket Sleighride (CD 1992)