Even The Angels Turn Away

He walked in from the drizzle, cold, in the afternoon.

Just got back from a fishing trip he’d just as soon forget.

And the questions that he had he posed in the mirror down the hall.

Sick of not performing, sick of getting wet

Was it the bait that was the problem?

Had he hit bottom yet?

He looked at the phone and it looked the other way.

In the inside of his home, he was outside of the world.

To eat, to sleep, to read, these were the questions to unfold.

Then the papers & the phone against the wall were hurled.

The white flag of submission

was finally unfurled.

The ocean was to rise and let everybody swim.

But unless you had your pass you weren’t allowed in.

Well, you can pray to your God, hit your knees every day.

But when you’re down on your luck

even the angels turn away.

Was it the Pilgrims at the Rock or the Nords against the Celts?

It had to be a sin passed down from time immemorial.

A beating of the mind is worse than that of the belt.

Beads of sweat may start to form, the hand rips thru the hair.

And you ask yourself a question,

Does it happen over there?

The ocean was to rise and let everybody swim

He thought he paid the price but he wasn’t allowed in.

Wel,l you can pray to your God, hit your knees every day.

But when you’re down on your luck

even the angels turn away.

There’s two ways to look at things when it just won’t go your way.

It’s a fascinating journey with a heavy price to pay.

The noises and the voices they all seem to come right back.

Defiance is a virtue; lost control will only hurt you.

And it seems you’re a guest in your own mom s house.

Then even angels turn away.