You can hear them praying now
When cracks appear on their rose tinted lens
“Why can’t girls around her be nicer!?”
Written on the slip in their right hand
With a rum and coke in the left
But taste the salt in their tears
When Principalities do descend from above
They’re nicer, they show you boys grace
But that can never change the fundamentals
That the divine are destined to abandon the sinners
God bless the angels, that only serve to aggravate
No amount of divinity can change
A tight locked schedule for the planet
Rapture’s right around the corner
What’s a poor Cherubim supposed to do?
Too nice to tighten the grip on his heart
Knowing it has to loosen someday
Too nice to indulge his curiosities
When accession’s clearly off the cards
That’s the epitome of kindness
That’s the meaning of courtesy
But clearly they’ve missed the memo of that one
Cos all it does is piss a heathen off
So god bless the angels, that only serve to aggravate
Lnc0
Domestic Poetry 