Archangel (Not the Devil)

And ghosts from the past
Just keep coming back
With clenched fingers wrapped tight
Sucking me dry
Beckoning me right in with arms inviting
Pray
The devil coming round for charity
God begging on the corner again
Angels and demons lost in my eyes
We're all just people
More parts of the choir
Preaching right back to the same
With pointed fingers and accusations
Working up a sweat, lashing in
All against ourselves
In the pulpit crying
The congregation on its knees
Passing around concussions
With peyote vipers
Soma spilling over
We're all just foaming at the will
Passing out
This eats me alive and empty to the quick