I lie
here dying in a hundred small ways
From voices crying my name
down nameless hallways
And the clock keeps ticking,
eating up the time
And I'm down to the last of the wine
My stomach growling at the
movements my hand makes
In reaching out toward the
disappearing handshakes
And the room keeps turning
slowly in my mind
And I'm down to the last of the wine
And I crawl on my belly through the night
And I dream of dying in the sunlight
As unseen shadows in the morning
start to harden
I rise up singing to the
angel in the garden
Some dark and different
angel of another kind
And I'm down to the last of the wine
And the angel never taught me to pray
An d I die with the dying of
the day
I lie here dying in
a hundred small ways
From voices crying my name
down nameless hallways
And the clock keeps ticking,
eating up the time,
and I'm down to the last of the wine.
My stomach growling at the
movements my hand makes,
In reaching out toward the
disappearing handshakes
And the room keeps turning
slowly in my mind
And I'm down to the last of the wine
And I crawl on my belly through
the night
And I dream of dying
in the sunlight.
As unseen shadows in the morning
start to harden,
I rise up singing to the
angel in the garden.
Some dark and dif ferent
angel of another kind
And I'm down to the last of the wine
An d the angel never taught me to pray
An d I die with
the dying of the day