Fallen angels of suburbia.

The angel cries her tears of pain. Where wings once were scarred stumps remain. Huddled in a ball, knees drawn to her chin. Rejection and segragation Are the products of her sin. Scorched wings, burnt mind, confusion never ceases. Alone on the verge op sanity, As her loneliness increases. Her father, he does not approve of the lifestyle that she chose. And so forbid acces to his kingdom, her abode. That’s when he came upon his bike, to take her away from here. In him she found all that she wants. With him it’s all so clear. Now they fly accros dark streets, A terror to behold. A product of their own downfall, Their souls allready sold.