Hey, angel, your horns are sticking up.

So he held her and he prayed. Shafts of moonlight on his face. But the baby in her womb, He was the maker of the moon. He was the author of the fate that could make the mountains move.

Winter is where hope lies happy.

Hey, angel, your horns are sticking up.

A thing resounds when it rings true, Ringing all the bells inside of you, Like a golden sky on a summer eve Your heart is tugging at your sleeve, And you cannot say why... There must be more

Blood was shed that you three might breathe the good air of life, and if that means you have to miss out on a Zibzy game, then so be it. Part of being a man is putting others' needs before your own.

Well "I do" are the two most famous last words. The beginning of the end. But to lose your life for another I've heard is a good place to begin.