Author: Emma Roach
And that was it.
Out of all of the days, all of the months the years and the tears and the fears
It was that Sunday that changed me Far more profoundly Than any sermon that even the highest priest could ever preach:
And not even the highest priestess Who moves millions when she preaches Nor any god above, below, here or there
Could ever save me from the angel Who had wrapped my heart into tiny angel things, the exquisite angel who couldn't see her wings.
And what a tragedy, But it was that day that I realized I was hers, But she could never be mine.
Because she was an angel, And she wrapped my heart into tiny angel things.
And out of all of the days all of the months The years and the tears and the fears
It was that Sunday that changed me.
I fell in love with an angel, And all her tiny angel things.
And that was it.