Aziraphale sets his fork down, staring in lip-parted bafflement at that winner of a reaction, and then turning slowly to stare narrow-eyed at the accusatory jukebox.

"It's more mine, thank you," he says rather coolly. "What Lucifer does is not righteous. Which is a prerequisite to smiting. He is an extremely powerful glorified murderer." He materializes himself a glass of good full-bodied Merlot and takes a judicious sip. "And I don't know if this 'song' is a coincidence or an underhanded attempt to imply something, but I will have you know I am an angel."