home of the saints burn down the wallsnnbetween spaces between friendsnnarchaic angels pose in rowsnnand in my garden angels grownnthey come inside only at nightnninterstatic sunbeams are the angels only storybooknnnnthey come inside only at nightnninterstatic sunbeams are the angels only storybooknnnnfriendsnnnneverybody sees everyonennthey don't bother wearing seat beltsnnto protect them from the wrecknnthey've already died in the california demise