I’m in the rafters looking down
It’s cold up here
Between walls of stone
I made my home
And the air hangs
Heavy with the incense
Feathers fall from pigeons
Cooing in the tower
I rarely go down there
The view is just so beautiful from here
And I can see everybody at their worst points
At their worst points
I’m not a sadist I enjoy just being able be witness
Of the loneliness and be a higher power
In case there isn’t one
In case there isn’t one
I’m not a higher power
I just live in the ceiling, cause I’m lonely
On the fringes and it gives
My life some meaning in my exile
In my exile
The grey light filters through roof slats
And the flagstones glow
Red from the stained glass
A hundred feet below
And I tiptoe
Creaking over prayers
Pleading with their maker
Crying at the choir
I’m not immune to the sincerity below me
Makes me feel it makes me holy
But through tears I understand that I do not belong
I watch the figures all the saints
But mostly sinners come and go
And some are desperate but
The others have this sense of certainty
And how it hurts me
Some only turn towards the heavens
When the end is feeling desperate
Have the overwhelming feeling that
There’s nobody who’s looking down
At least I’m looking down
