Lyric

Maybe an angel, just passing by

Reading books and breaking things

A globe, a ship, how delicate

And then—oops—a bullet sings

Maybe an angel, with no name

Hums a tune, avoids the blame

Sits in cafés, drinks her tea

Smiles like she’s irony

A manual gun, she follows rules

She bookmarks pages, plays the fool

Your fingers tap the window pane

You forgot the line again

Maybe she’s gone

Maybe she’s near

Maybe that angel

Was never here