Moonlit things and heaven sings
And clouds begin to float away
The gruesome drip-drop of tears on a dark street
Rings bells all around
While they bury your angel wings
With drops of blood and black lipstick smears.
Clocks chime like lamenting fists
Banging on your tombstone, crying
To the slowly eroding saint with blank eyes
Carved above your dead body
She refuses to revive you.
She will not open your eyes
And sprinkle them with holy sunshine.
Beautiful grey eyes
Oh, how I would love to see those eyes again
Love to gaze into your eyes as you whisper
Words of hope and dreams
Your angel wings shielding away
The mourning bell tolls
The drops of blood plinking into the dark street