Lyrics The Trouble with Angels - Steve Forbert

The Trouble with Angels

Bad girl, don’t cry
Don’t let those TV cameras catch your eye
Bad girl, don’t cry
Don’t let those TV cameras catch your eye
Gayle grew up a good girl
Tell the old judge so
Gayle was neither selfish, mean, nor wild
And any wrong that Gayle’s done
She done out of love
This is what she’d risk to have a child
Mother’s explanation
«Cotton Queens don’t steal
For what she’s done, we’ve got those drugs to thank.»
Gayle could not get pregnant
Treatments were not cheap
Gayle felt trapped and Gayle worked in a bank
The trouble with angels is they get a little spoiled
And think that gravity can’t pull them down
And the drag about some women is their domineering sound
While a man is but a monkey with a crown
Gayle shown like a rhinestone
All her nervous teens
And everything her mother chose she did
People watched her tap dance
Met the Cotton Queen
No one knew the stressed out, mixed up kid
The trouble with angels is they get a little spoiled
And think that gravity can’t pull them down
And the drag about some women is their domineering sound
While a man is but a monkey with a crown
Bad girl, don’t cry
Don’t let those TV cameras catch your eye
Bad girl, don’t cry
Don’t let those TV cameras catch your eye
Daddy paid the funds back
And daddy went the bail
And hired a legal firm of noted skill
And what about Gayle’s husband?
He just stood and shrugged
He’d thought Gayle’s insurance paid the bills
The trouble with angels is they get a little spoiled
And think that gravity can’t pull them down
And the drag about some women is their domineering sound
While a man is but a monkey with a crown
Crown bad girl, don’t cry
Don’t let those TV cameras catch your eye
Bad girl, don’t cry
Don’t let those TV cameras catch your eye