Too many angels near the ground
They're buzzin' 'round like
lovely killer bees
Little knick knack cherubs,
busy bodies, always
puttin' on the squeeze
All those shrill celestial voices
and a million phony
holy wills to please
Our vain and pointless genuflections
block the heart's connection
to our knees
Yes I want you
You're the only one I need
I need you
You're the only one that bleeds
Sheets and feathers, tarnished halos
disguising all us
wingless, grounded saints
They're either fallen or they're broken up
or a little bit too precious
and quaint
There's not enough glue to mend them all
not enough spackle
and paint
Always leaving much too early
and predictably arriving
much too late
They're tuned to amuse you
and fill you with dread
they're beneath your feet
and over your head
You see them hitch hiking
and under your bed
They hang around gift shops
pretending they're dead