Monday, June 09, 2008

Where the Angels Sleep

I woke up with "Where the Angels Sleep" in my head last Saturday morning. The day before my grandmother died. And while the chorus used to stir me, this time the verses seemed startlingly personal. Every time the song cycles through a season of my life, I identify with something new. Sometimes I find it encouraging. And sometimes it makes me cry. So it's never 100% me. But it's often close.

And then last Sunday happened. And the song was neatly tucked into the back of my mind.

Yesterday, I started sorting through the endless stacks of sheet music in my apartment. Scratch that. The endless stacks of poorly photocopied chords covered with transposed scratches and lyric adjustments. A crinkled, melodic chaos. As I was sorting through the mess, I found the lyrics to the gorgeous song that looped over and over in my head a mere week ago, all typed up prettily from the days of when I would tape lyrics to my wall. The chords permanently sit at my piano. And the CD is always but a lonely night away.

Sometimes a girl's just gotta turn up the tunes, turn down the lights and hug her pillow.
Where the Angels Sleep - Bebo Norman
(Listen to the whole song here.)

I don't know why I always run
Is it fear of the fall or fear of the touch?
And I don't know where the angels sleep

And I don't know how to really love
I've never stood still long enough
And I don't know where the angels sleep

But I am alive and standing strong
I'm no farther forward, just farther along
I hold on to my pride and dig in deep
It's pulling me down, and I am no closer to release
And I don't know where the angels sleep

I don't know how to see you now
The friend from before is different somehow
And I don't know where the angels sleep

And I don't know when I'll love again
But I don't trust myself to just let you in
And I don't know where the angels sleep

It's taken ten thousand days
To get stuck in my ways
And it offers no grace
I cannot stand this place
With love in my face
I walk away slowly

I don't know where the angels sleep
No, I don't know where the angels sleep
No matter how much as I play it on the piano, I just don't sound like a boy with a guitar.

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