I long to run hand in hand with angels
To feel the grace of shattered glass against my wrist
Did the mother of god cry for her son?
Will mine suffer the same before I'm gone?
The last thing I will see is my own face
As I float between two worlds
I long to run hand in hand with angels
To feel the grace of shattered glass against my wrist
Don't weep for me
I will shine brighter from above
To feel the need for the first time as I leave
Did the mother of god cry for her son
Even though she knew this day would come?
Before I'm gone, the stations of the cross
Serve as reminders of the closest things we've lost
Will you love me when there's nothing left to love?
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