
There are things that only I and the angels know I trust them to keep their silence They come around when I close my eyes And disappear when I get the urge to do some harm There are angels that live in the bottom Of almost every glass of beer Churches are crowded with their statues But they have no need to go there I can hear the angels whisper when I am quiet enough But they never let me hear them cry I guess they think that it would discourage me But I would like to hear the angels cry
