Myself is what I have been after
But it's when I'm that, that people end my laughter
They hate my smile, jokes and wings
So they rip them off and expect me to sing
But not an angel out can make or bring
Happiness without their wings
And so when flying is no longer an option
so many give their wings up for auction
The highest bidder is all they care about
Money, cars and girls step out
So they consume and indulge until their soul runs out
But what about the one that stayed high above
And never came down, but soured like a dove
Kept their mind, them self and most important their love
They always kept positive and began to sing
About being content and every happy thing
He is heard by all those down below and under
And so they get jealous and begin to wonder
"How come we are stuck here all winter, fall, spring, and summer?"
And there is only one angel up there like no other
And they yell and rage and start to blunder:
"It isn't fair that he is above and we are all under"
They get together and plan their theft
Of the only pure angel left
Shot with guns and rocks of apathy
They plummet him down with no remorse or sympathy
From all around they start to run
To see the new trophy-prize they've won
But what they witnessed made their world come undone
Something on his back had caught their eye
Suddenly they remember a time when they had wings to fly
When angels were pure and heaven abide
When life was the best and nobody sighed
In an instant they realized what they've done and everyone cried
For the last true angel had now met his demise
They all felt their shots of apathy and self-despise
And feeling smaller than any bug or mice
They wished with all their worth to remember an angels paradise.
