Well you know I don't like you but you wanna be my friend 
Well, there are bodies on the ceiling and they're fluttering their wings 
It's ok I'm angry 
But you'll never understand 
When you dream of Michelangelo 
They hang above your hands 

And I know that she is not my friend 
And I know cause there she goes 
Walking on my skin again 

And I can't why you'd want to talk to me 
When your vision of America is crystalline and clean 
I want a white bread life 
Just something ignorant and plain, 
But from the walls of Michelangelo I'm dangling again 

And I know that she is not my friend 
And I know cause there she goes 
Walking on my skin again and again 

Saturn on a line 
sun afire on strings and wires 
To spin above my head and make it right 
But any time you like 
You can catch a sight of angel eyes all emptiness and infinite 

And I dream of Michelangelo when I'm lying in my bed 
I see god upon the ceiling I see angels overhead 
And he seems so close as he reaches out his hand 
But we are never quite as close as we are led to understand 

And I know that she is not my friend 
And I know cause there she goes 
Walking on my skin again and again