Well you know I don't like you but you wanna be my friend

Well, there are bodies on the ceiling and they're fluttering their wings

It's ok I'm angry

But you'll never understand

When you dream of michelangelo

They hang above your hands

And I know that she is not my friend

And I know cause there she goes

Walking on my skin again

And I can't why you'd want to talk to me

When your vision of america is crystalline and clean

I want a white bread life

Just something ignorant and plain,

But from the walls of michelangelo I'm dangling again

And I know that she is not my friend

And I know cause there she goes

Walking on my skin again and again

Saturn on a line

A sun afire on strings and wires

To spin above my head and make it right

But any time you like

You can catch a sight of angel eyes all emptiness and infinite

And I dream of michelangelo when I'm lying in my bed

I see god upon the ceiling I see angels overhead

And he seems so close as he reaches out his hand

But we are never quite as close as we are led to understand

And I know that she is not my friend

And I know cause there she goes

Walking on my skin again and again