Well come tell me your story
I’ll tell
you mine
Sunday morning communion
Standing in a line
Feeling like a
cannibal
Eating flesh and drinking blood
Diguised as wine
I know someday
we’re gonna see
Wings spring out from
your shoulders
What kind of being are you?
For there are moments upon
moments
Upon moments
When you hardly
seem to walk the earth
And I realize I’ve
spent my whole life searching
Searching for
an angel
For an angel (you’re an
angel)
So come tell me your story
I’ll tell you all
Looking at rococco
statues
And paintings on the wall
Sitting up there high and mighty
Was
this eden was this hell?
I had to know
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