Cecelia Weir

(March 19,1955 / Fayette, Alabama)

Angel On Parole


I feel like an angel
On a lifetime parole.
Not sent here to live
But just sent to console.

There are other life forms
From every planet to see.
Theres nothing we can discuss
They all seem not to know me.

My friends misunderstand me
They crucify my ways.
I'm sure I'm not on my own
Cause I do everything and obey.

I feel like an angel
On a jeopardizing parole.
With a hard lifetime sentence
I can't get no control.

I tried to explain
The problems that worry me.
But this dude cut me short
Said ain't nothing free.

Where do angels go
When they just don't fit in?
Do they return home to God
And then be sent back again?

I feel like and angel
On a real stale parole.
I know I must be lost.
People here even get old.

When is my draft up?
I'd rather be serving time.
Where at least I'd be peaceful
Problems wouldn't be on my mind.

Oooh! When will these spirits
Reach from heart to heart?
But whats so sad about it
No one is willing to start.

I feel like an angel
On the world for parole.
The shape this world is in
It hurts me to my soul.

If only a few of us
Would agree on one thing
It wouldn't make it so hard
For a fellow to earn his wings.

Sometimes I think its better
To just leave it all alone.
But no matter how hard it is
I got to work my way back home.

I feel like an angel
On a lifetime parole.
And until its all over
I'll be here to console.

Submitted: Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Edited: Saturday, January 18, 2014

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  • Patricia Gale (5/2/2008 9:56:00 PM)

    The song comes to mind I heard often in service.... you gotta walk that lonesome valley... walk it by yourself...
    Only true hearts can understand the deepth of this piece. (Report) Reply

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