Well you know I don't like you but you wanna be my friend 

Well, there are bodies on the ceiling and they're fluttering their wings 

It's ok I'm angry 

But you'll never understand 

When you dream of Michelangelo 

They hang above your hands 


And I know that she is not my friend 

And I know cause there she goes 

Walking on my skin again 


And I can't why you'd want to talk to me 

When your vision of America is crystalline and clean 

I want a white bread life 

Just something ignorant and plain, 

But from the walls of Michelangelo I'm dangling again 


And I know that she is not my friend 

And I know cause there she goes 

Walking on my skin again and again 


Saturn on a line 

A sun afire on strings and wires 

To spin above my head and make it right 

But any time you like 

You can catch a sight of angel eyes all emptiness and infinite 


And I dream of Michelangelo when I'm lying in my bed 

I see god upon the ceiling I see angels overhead 

And he seems so close as he reaches out his hand 

But we are never quite as close as we are led to understand 


And I know that she is not my friend 

And I know cause there she goes 

Walking on my skin again and again