• When angels cry,
    They hate to be alone.
    They want their sorrow to pass by
    Never to return and condone.

    They cry and plead
    Until they can't shed another tear.
    They make themselves bleed
    For they cannot think clear.

    They want to go home
    Back to their life they've once known.
    Because here they do nothing but roam
    For their hearts are not yet sewn.

    "Why?
    Why must you bind me?
    Why did you lie?
    You've looked at me so blindly..."