Michael McGuire Angels In The Graveyard
ANGELS IN THE GRAVEYARD
© Electric Babylon Music Author: M.M.
They are waiting there with arms full of heavens junk, they are preaching
the gospel of treasure, the newly dead with heads full of useless
memories, confused by this new aching pleasure, they rise shaky and
uncertain, from the world of sense into the shadowlands, the angels move
in hoping for a whiff of fresh earth, they come forward slowly wringing
there hands, and they will trade you caviar for toothpaste, give you a
thousand dollars just to touch your hair, in a matter of moments there
your closest friends, they’ll tell you all about the world when they were
there.
Some have been before history began, some used to know you, all they
want to do is gossip about the earthly paradise, and what they used to do,
and you are in wonder, as you trade your socks for Monet’s newest work,
you slowly realize your place and a head full of questions, where is god
and why is this angel such a jerk, am I dead I don’t remember dying, the
angels wana know what was my last meal, what kind of car did I drive,
and what’s the last thing I did feel.
You feel frustrated cause you don’t know what to do next, and these
angels are no help at all, your full of the resurrection, and they’re just
muttering about the fall, and then a newly woken memory sits up, and the
angels rush over and leave you alone, and as there reborn through there
vicarious interview, you begin to miss the weight of flesh and bone, and
you don’t want to be just another dead angel, lost in the loss of some
life, but your attracted to the story line, and walk up just as the new angel
is telling everyone about his wife.
July 97
