What will change forever? What will keep my door locked? You turn the handle, but you can't find me here. Not this time. Flying angels too enlightened to see, a broken bottle on my doorstep. This time it isn't the same, it's rearranged. Out of view and out of sight. Flying angels too enlightened to see, a broken bottle on the cement. They're straight from the moon to your front door, from the inside, on the outside of heaven. I can't see them because gravity's got me glued to the ground. I can't see them, but I'm needing them more. Flying angels too enlightened to see. A broken bottle on the cement. After all this I turn the key, but I've never understood what's been given to me.
Copyright © CS Ward