Its been said we're fallen angels.
The tender who tend tend to fall from an uproar
In the den under the floor lie bunks and shisha pipes
sprawled lions and ivy, mosiac compadre.
Then a surge something chokes the scene is revoked, the angel has fallen but the sky isnt mourning.
Please hand me my crutches to walk to the doorway.
Ahhh smite on me now deliver my lightning an angel I was
but now life is just frightening.
A crack and a winch of a dawn and a kiss.
A crisp sunrise cry
Oh Compadre of mine
Embedded in me
Whom I long to see
Says to me "See through your demise"
( Sighs )