I was walking down Dean Street, headed nowhere at all Aimlessly strolling through Soho, when the rain began to fall Alright nutty boy she said, passing me on Dean Street She's striding through the puddles, on black stilettoed feet Guitar over one shoulder, swirling swagger in her stride In a well-appointed pencil skirt, That maybe, just maybe 18 inches wide The voice of fallen angels Lost lovers in the night A blackbird on the wing Now only fallen angels sing She looked back at me and smiled She winked one deep black mascara eye Well I narrowly missed the lamppost As I made to make my reply A black taxi splashes diesel rainbows through the neon air Behind fishnet stocking by hydraulic derriere The voice of fallen angels Lost lovers in the night A blackbird on the wing Now only fallen angels sing That guitar over one shoulder Just a glimpse of pink La Pearla Bra Glowing in the mist round Wanny Scots There she goes, c'est la trois trois We briefly faced each other, then she turned and walked away And the rain lashed down on Dean Street, on that black and mournful day, hey The voice of fallen angels Lost lovers in the night A blackbird on the wing Now only fallen angels sing, sing The voice of fallen angels Lost lovers in the night A blackbird on the wing Only fallen angels sing A blackbird on the wing Only fallen angels sing Fallen angels sing Fallen angels sing Fallen angels sing