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Diana Jones
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Angel Walking Home
Jamie lived her life,
Like a punch line from a joke.
I didn't always get it,
but I laughed when she spoke.
Jamie had her finger,
on a pulse of a better way.
The most vital sign,
was the smile on her face.
Get ready, brother,
Here's another.
Angel,
walking home.
Jamie had the eye,
to size up situations.
Like a pool shark round a table,
a tough configuration.
And, dancing through illusions,
of impossible angles,
she'd focus on the straight line,
then she'd own the table.
Get ready, brother,
Here's another.
Angel,
walking home.
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Jamie's final dance,
was a horizontal step.
She just read the signs,
there's no use to climb,
when you live on,
heaven's edge.
Friends check out a life,
Like it's a grand hotel.
Memories or postcards,
that say the trip went well.
Restin on our travels,
When the journey's through,
may we all reserve a room,
From Jamie's point of view.
Get ready, brother,
Here's another.
Angel,
walking home.
Get ready, brother.
Here's another,
Angel, walking home.
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