i've got blue prints for snow angels
and lessons in shaping and imprinting
angelic figures of what i truly wish to be

i wish God had given me wings
wings to touch and wings to heal
wings that rob and wings that steal are all i ever got.


wipe away my wings
they were never really there
anyway


we're in a capsule traveling beside a dotted line
at a speed that God himself made to dry your tears
if only i could see out, if only you could see me drying

choose a side or step aside ancient storyteller

when its your default
who's to notice if its different?