Crash Of Angel Wings

Here she comes 
like rumbling drums 
swinging her skirts 
and talking in spurts 
sailing high 
in her ship of the sky 
being found 
broken on the ground 

but when she sings 
I hear the crash of angel wings 
When she sings I hear the crash of wings 

On Sundays she walks 
on cut glass and rocks 
On Monday she falls 
from the sheerest of walls 
On Tuesday she screams 
black words in her dreams 
On Friday she lies 
and a part of her dies