The Strand Settings: 3. Dark Harbor XXXV

The sickness
The sickness of angels is nothing new
I have seen them crawling like bees
Flightless, chewing their tongues, not singing
Down, down, down by the bus terminal, hanging out
Showing their legs, hiding their wings
Carrying on for their brief term on Earth

No longer smiling; asleep, asleep in the shade of each other
They drift into the arms of strangers
Who step into their light, which is the mascara of Eden
Offering more than invisible love
Intangible comforts, offering the taste
The pure erotic glory of death
Without echoes
The feeling of kisses blown out of Heaven
Melting the moment they land



Credits
Writer(s): Anders Hillborg
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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