she says:I don't need to be an angel
but I'm nothing if I'm not this high.
I am waiting for the moon to come and light me up inside,
waiting for the telephone to tell me I'm alive
I dream of Michelangelo when I'm lying in my bed
little angels hang above my head and read me like an open book -
suck my blood, break my nerve, offer me their arms
well, I will not be an enemy of anything
I'll only stand here.