I’m sure that she’s an angel,
Though I’ve never seen her wings.
She  hangs them in the closet
By the door with coats and things.

And she swears that she’s not special
As she laughs and shakes her hair
But to me she is salvation
And I need her like the air

I pretend that I believe her
And I don’t look for her wings
But I know they’re in the closet
With the coats and other things.