Writer Song

I awoke from a dream to the sound of fluttering wings.
A flock of ghosts on the lawn,
Travelling south for the winter i suppose.
They're lost trying to leave this icy winterland frost,
But there's no way to escape everything.
There's an angel up in a tree,
And she won't come down.
She's afraid that she might fall
Into the arms of a fireman
And she will lose her soul.
Sometimes they don't know when to let go,
But there's no way to escape everything.