I did everything wrong
Nothing I did was ever right
Even if I sing just one song
nothing turns very bright.
I am no angel nor a saint
I have no wings nor a white dress
My hands are dirty, tainted red.
I only have a black sleek robe, not even a dress.
Fallen angel, they all call me
When they see me, i see fear, never glee.
They cry and try to run away
Knowing that there will be no other day.
Sometimes I wonder,
If I was really an angel.
But angels don't wander
Only the wingless angels.
Wingless? I once had wings
But it was torn off, hurt I was without those things.
Was it a curse? I don't even know
All I know is that I collect souls.
