| It started with the ring I wear | 
| A journey few would care to share | 
| Some say it is the braggart’s boast | 
| A life along the Barbary Coast | 
| Pirate ships with jet black sails | 
| Sirens clinging to the rails | 
| Broken victims walked the plank | 
| Before we struck the rock and sank | 
| Too many angels have fallen at my feet | 
| Too many angels have fallen | 
| Washed up on a welcome beach | 
| Where excise men could never reach | 
| Riding horseback through the lanes | 
| Soothed the traveller’s aches and pains | 
| Raising cattle, tending sheep | 
| It’s easier than losing sleep | 
| A young girl’s fancies loosely spun | 
| The monkey and the damage done | 
| The prisoner finally walking free | 
| To spring in Little Italy | 
| When in doubt just make a list | 
| All that was was ever missed | 
| Too many angels have fallen at my feet | 
| Too many angels have fallen | 
| The storm has finally come to pass | 
| I pour my tears into the glass | 
| You can’t erase the lines of age | 
| Or words upon the printed page | 
| The dragonfly with folded wings | 
| Has found the pleasure true love brings | 
| And while we live in Tiffany time | 
| The ring has stood the test of time | 
| Nowadays it’s far more clear | 
| With all the loves I held so dear | 
| Swirling gently through the mist | 
| With softer tongue and velvet fist | 
| As though they seem to understand | 
| It started out with nothing planned | 
| The days are closing in so fast | 
| It’s time to find some peace at last | 
| Too many angels have fallen at my feet | 
| Too many angels have fallen |