You are pulled from the wreckage, of your silent reverie.You're in the arms of your angel, may you find some comfort here.So tired of the straight lin....And everywhere you turn, there's vultures and thieves at your back.And the storm keeps on twisting.You keep on building the liesthat you make up for all that you lack.It don't make no difference.Escaping one last time.It's easier to believe in this sweet madness, oh!This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees.In the arms of an angel, fly. 'Larry Long' was me stage name, if you can call it that? I was always wearing a mask whenever I fucked some tarts, so nobody ever got to see me face, well except for the girls and the cameraman sometimes, so I was pretty anonymous really? If you seen any pornos from the early 80s with a masked man with a huge cock, fuckin' various girls, it'll probably have my name in the credits?Anyway, the trouble, if ya can call it trouble, all started when I was about eighteen an' I was workin' in this. More

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