Angelic Weirdness
Robert Pollard
It walks with me
Doesn't think I know
When I conjure it
As I look around
And I look around
You can tell
That no counts will miss you
And I cast her flow
As it walks me home
She'll comfort me
Does she even know
As I send along
That I'm not alone
That I'm not alone
And she tends to be
She can tell no wrong
She can speak no wrong
We have angelic weirdness