Dawn Is Breaking
The Angels Lyrics


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(Brewster-Neeson-Brewster)
(Remember looking at the haunted grace bow down to the storm?
remember searching for a familiar face with no one there
to mourn?)
Staring at silent screens
plastic tubes to carry fading dreams
preacher, servant in their hall
warm blood on the palace wall
those who dine alone in hell
wearing grief in their lapel
drop small change in wishing wells
the haunted tear that never fell
someone's dragging a ball and chain
looking for you in the pouring rain
while those who care give silent prayer for lovers going home
If there was a brickwall surrounding the New York scene
if there were secrets locked in steel
if there was a button you could press on the luck machine
if there was a place for wounds to heal
if you were borne in the barbwire of your mother's womb
if you were hungry before you died
if you say you left your bath all clean and white
you know, I know you lied
remember the poet who said it first
he was speaking of you and your difficult birth
how you can say a prayer for lovers going home
Drinking from an empty cup
waiting for the rot to grow
distant sounds that can't be heard
and no one knows
children who don't mind the rain
yet have no wish to die
whatever your own world could've been
you'd feel better if you could cry
Dawn is breaking in the graveyard
People massing in the street
trampled heards beneath their feet
children playing with the dead
silver spoon stained with red
watching through a widow's veil
as Caesar desecrates the Holy Grail
you sit all alone in your front row seat
you look so small and frail
you're mud on the feet of the men you've damned
you're darkness come too soon
you should be selling two-bit watches and girly photographs
masterpiece in ruin
you're pantomime of old world courtesy
you should have a degree for how-o-lotry
you should be a hazard agent in an apartment tower
with no technology
did you ever listen to the poles opposed to you
did you ever stop to ask?
did you ever smile and hide your wasted lips
did you ever lift your mask?
did you ever walk with your feet on by
till they take your place in line?
did you know that you belong
where wrong is right and right is wrong?




did you really think that you'd be left where
power is life and life is death?

Overall Meaning

The Angels's song "Dawn Is Breaking" features surrealistic and apocalyptic lyrics that hint at chaos, destruction, grief, and alienation against a backdrop of societal decay, political turmoil, and spiritual emptiness. The song begs to ask profound questions about human existence, faith, resilience, and hope in the face of overwhelming odds. The first verse describes a sense of isolation, loss, and stoicism in the wake of personal tragedy or existential crisis. The second verse offers a string of rhetorical questions and hypothetical scenarios that confront the listener with an unyielding sense of futility, despair, and cynicism. The last verse takes a confrontational and accusatory tone to denounce those who abuse their power, ignore their responsibilities, and betray their values, urging the listener to resist the temptation of conformism, apathy, and nihilism at all cost. Overall, the lyrics create an unsettling yet powerful critique of modern society and a sobering reminder of the fragility of life and the human condition.


Line by Line Meaning

Remember looking at the haunted grace bow down to the storm?
Recall witnessing elegantly fragile beauty crumble to chaos?


Remember searching for a familiar face with no one there to mourn?
Recall seeking a sense of belonging amongst absence and neglect?


Staring at silent screens plastic tubes to carry fading dreams
Gazing at lifeless monitors that convey vanishing aspirations


Preacher, servant in their hall warm blood on the palace wall
Religious leaders and loyal followers drenched in bloodshed's aftermath


Those who dine alone in hell wearing grief in their lapel
People who suffer alone in their personal hell, openly displaying their sorrow


Drop small change in wishing wells the haunted tear that never fell
Depositing trivial contributions in fountains of hope while keeping repressed emotions


Someone's dragging a ball and chain looking for you in the pouring rain
A person with burdens dragging behind them, searching for you in downpour's chaos


While those who care give silent prayer for lovers going home
Compassionate individuals offering silent blessings for couples returning to safety


If there was a brickwall surrounding the New York scene if there were secrets locked in steel if there was a button you could press on the luck machine if there was a place for wounds to heal if you were borne in the barbwire of your mother's womb if you were hungry before you died if you say you left your bath all clean and white you know, I know you lied
If obstacles blocked the path in the city that never sleeps, truths locked away, or fortune was guaranteed, or a sanctuary for recovery, or subjected to painful birth and hunger, or lying about cleanliness, it's clear deception occurs


Remember the poet who said it first he was speaking of you and your difficult birth how you can say a prayer for lovers going home
Recall the poet's words about your struggle to enter the world, and how it's possible to bless others while in turmoil


Drinking from an empty cup waiting for the rot to grow distant sounds that can't be heard and no one knows children who don't mind the rain yet have no wish to die whatever your own world could've been you'd feel better if you could cry
Consume from a cup of nothingness, waiting for decay, hearing silent echoes, feeling misunderstood, wanting to live even in unpleasant conditions, no matter how your own world was formed, crying would ease your troubles


Dawn is breaking in the graveyard People massing in the street trampled heards beneath their feet children playing with the dead silver spoon stained with red watching through a widow's veil as Caesar desecrates the Holy Grail you sit all alone in your front row seat you look so small and frail you're mud on the feet of the men you've damned you're darkness come too soon you should be selling two-bit watches and girly photographs masterpiece in ruin you're pantomime of old world courtesy you should have a degree for how-o-lotry you should be a hazard agent in an apartment tower with no technology
As the morning sky brightens over the cemetery and people gather outside, reckless destruction and innocence coexist, luxury tarnished with blood, observing from behind a mourning veil as a ruler disrespects a sacred object. Sitting alone in a prime spot, feeling insignificant and decrepit, like mud under the feet of those despised. Your life prematurely consumed by darkness, no longer valuable but rather a damaged work of art. Pantomiming polite customs of a dying era, while deserving recognition for fake charm. A hazard in a high-rise building with no modern amenities.


Did you ever listen to the poles opposed to you did you ever stop to ask? did you ever smile and hide your wasted lips did you ever lift your mask? did you ever walk with your feet on by till they take your place in line? did you know that you belong where wrong is right and right is wrong? did you really think that you'd be left where power is life and life is death?
Have you ever listened to the opinions that differ from yours, or inquired about another's life? Have you ever pretended to be content when everything is wrong, or struggled to reveal your true self? Have you ever followed the crowd until your turn to lead arrives? Did you realize you belong where injustice prevails, and expected to remain where strength only results in mortality?




Contributed by Henry V. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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