You rally round, With head-of-fire, And lips just made to lie. And promises that you never keep, 'Cos your heart's made of ice. Everything you do, And everything you say, Is nothing but a season in hell. Way down, where the angel cries. You wanted wealth, And you wanted fame, But, oh, the price was too high. You dally here, And you squander there, And time just passed you by. Take another hit, And push a little shit, And skim another bucket of gold. Way down, where the angel cries. (La-la, la-la, la-la, la-la, la- la, la-la) (La-la, la-la, la-la, la-la, la- la, la-la) Everything you do, And everything you say, Is nothing but a season in hell. Way down, where the angel cries. Way down, where the angel cries.