The Crash Of Angel Wings

Here she comes like rumbling drums
swinging her skirts and talking in spurts
sailing high in her ship of the sky
being found broken on the ground
but when she sings I hear the crash of angel wings
When she sings I hear the crash of wings
On Sundays she walks on cut glass and rocks
On Monday she falls from the sheerest of walls
On Tuesday she screams black words in her dreams
On Friday she lies and a part of her dies
but when she sings I hear the crash of angel wings
When she sings I hear the crash of wings
Here she comes like rumbling drums
She’s swinging her skirts, she’s talking in spurts
Now she’s reading my books,
now she’s giving me looks
as she slips and sways through murmering days
and when she sings I hear the crash of angel wings
When she sings I hear the crash of angel wings
When she sings I hear the crash of wings
Here she comes like rumbling drums
Here she comes like rumbling drums
like rumbling drums