歌词
I shot an angel with my father's rifle
I should have set it free, but I let it bleed
Made it into taxidermy, hung it on my wall
I shot an angel with my father's rifle
I should have set it free, but I let it bleed
Made it into taxidermy, hung it on my wall
On my wall
One day it will come to claim its pound of flesh
When it's done, there won't be anything left
Sickness of poacker's pride