Smoky Mountain Angel (of Doom) Songtext
von Caleb Groh

I am the messenger
I am the Smoky Mountain Angel of Doom
Here in the room
Put my jacket on
You′re gonna pay for every day you slammed the back door

Would he, the Porch King of San Juan make a steel angel of you?
I've seen maybe 14 of his angels
Sitting on his green street stoop

And with my hands on 10 and 2
Man I got so heavy the sun withdrew
But I drove through the night for a word with you


How was I to know you would never come home?
The refrigerator buzz sounded so alone
And the kettle grows quiet
Wild winds silent
Storm begins to form
And the living room lights go out

I am your reckoner
I am your jury on judgement day
You will atone for every phone call claimed to have been out-of-state

I got the bills and I did the math
And the sum was time that I can′t subtract
Well I gave you my word and I want the word back

How was I to know you would never come home?
The refrigerator buzz sounded so alone
And the kettle grows quiet
Wild winds silent
Storm begins to form
And the living room lights go out