BOOK OF ANGELS
© 1995 Mike Pratt/Jim White

Big ole car moving fast, watch the world go spinning by...
Little wheels inside my brain, God I wonder where I’m going...
Where you going? Need a ride? We got time to see a movie...
It’s all right. it’s okay, I can tell you my big secret:

Sho’ is cool. Sho’ is cool. I’m like a mad tap dancing fool.
I got my car, and I got my dreams, but won’t you help me
help me write my Book of Angels. Book of Angels.

And it’s a gloomy ole house in a spooky town,
you make that light, better just keep rolling,
higher still, climb the mountain,
’course what you’ll find there, you can’t be certain.
’Cause when you’re free, well you’re just free,
ain’t that scary, ain’t that wild?
And don’t you feel, feel just like
chucking freedom out the window?

Sho’ is cool. Sho’ is real. I dance just as good as I feel.
Feel just like a hurricane, say my name...
help me write my Book of Angels. Book of Angels.

I’m counting trees, I’m counting miles, I count the distance between your smiles...
give me something to hold on to — no not that. I don’t want to.
And if you drive, drive your car fast and hard a million miles,
well you might finally find yourself alone way out there on the highway...

Sho’ is cool. Sho’ is wild. Once I was a little baby (child),
but I lost my car, and I lost my dreams, so won’t you help me
help me write my Book of Angels. Book of Angels.