Grant Hart
She Can See The Angels Coming
With diamond wings and harps a-strumming
She can see the angels coming
With silver wings and hats of gold
They've come to bring her back into the fold
And she rambles on insensibly
About her china berry tree
And reaches out and touches me
An opportunity that's not repeating
With tearful eyes I see him standing
On the bridge above the landing
With burdened thoughts he's had before
Compel him to commit his final chore
Then he throws himself into the air
And leaves behind his painful cares
And ends his life as one who dared
To climb the stairs that lead into the morning
The squealing breaks and lights a crashing
Consciousness commences crashing
And what you can and cannot see
Are separated instantly
His soul is from the wreckage thrown
And suddenly he's on his own
Above the land where he had grown
His life on loan
Collected in the morning