Too Many Angels

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