Angelee

She has the pale complexion of innocence and death
she could be laid out in white
with an arm load of roses across her dress
a snow white in a glass coffin
instead of this street girl sitting on the stoop
of the seventh day Adventist bible store smoking
Town folks say she's a fallen petal from a homeless teenager
dropped in the back alley, left to cry damp and hungry
on a pile of newspaper with nobody

      And he's no special man and he knows it
      he just counts himself lucky
      to be holding onto something as soft and lovely
      as sweet Angelee

They just sit there, Sleeping Beauty and her man
neither one talking much, just staying together
that's enough for this girl almost a woman
and everyday Angelee wears her pretty party dress
poppy red with the cream lace coming loose from the hem
something to twist and never mend
something to count on again and again

      And he's no special man and she knows it
      but she counts herself lucky
      to be holding onto something so simple and steady
      as kind Freddy

Angelee rolls the sides of her patent flats
over the edge of the stairs
and polishes her moon stone face
with a brush of her straight black hair
Neighborhood kids laugh and point and shout
Look out for the vampire girl
truth is her beauty is sometimes hidden
sometimes frightening and surely not of this world

      And he's no special man and he knows it
      he just counts himself lucky to be holding onto something
      as strong as his love for Sweet Angelee

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