Not the Saint
I was once, straight
hanging out in your paradise.
Scared of being lost in love
I crave it on the daily
your ecstasy hangs from tips of our lips
hiding in the light of lonely nights.
The spirit keeps me close to you
but baby baby baby
time is ever-changing
the minutes n the hours pass
you remind me of the angel on the painted glass.
Not the Saint
I was once, less
maybe more
closer to the singing task.
Saint's Muse 