Lining up in rows waiting for the music,
Dancing in the puddles counting seconds, counting bruises.
Waiting for forever for a never ending cause,
Wishing for a well that's filled with open windows open doors.
The sky is thickening with the things that have been done;
Leaking with regrets of present thoughts, it might be fun!
As the tone is drumming, the sprinters run off blind
But when the drumming stops, oh the horrors you will find.
One leg in front another and before you know you'll fly,
But the angels don't take killers, manipulated or the wry.
Saving all the people living in your narrow minded view,
The angels that you follow will make demons out of you.