I pawned my halo a few years back Got a few bucks and a few nice words On a warmer summer day that this one, Now my hands are smeared with black Something I can not remember picking up It looks disturbingly like sin But it may just be perception I know I shine But sometimes that is just the makeup And real good lighting When inside my heart feels as broken As these old shards of glass I rest on at night Help maybe out there somewhere I can hear it calling if I listen hard enough But it is hard to hear And easier to find ugly little vibrations Coming from everyone, it seems Or maybe just reflections, I do not listen well And whatever you may be saying Is lost in transmissions of black and white When there is no wrong or right Sometimes I want to wash off all this darkness And flee to warmer climes Maybe earn back the currency To pick up a halo and a nice set of wings.