The people of the sky, do you think they turn the sky grey?
The ones with holy wings, do you think they make the birds sing?
The people of the clouds, do you think they make the clouds cry?
The ones with golden halos, do you think are always watching?
The people with no choice, do you think they have a voice?
The ones that fly above, do you think they envy the ones that are below?
The people of my dreams, do you think they’ll come and save me?
The ones that have fallen down, do you think their sinners?
The people with tears in their eyes, and their hands in prayer?
The ones I want to save, are the ones that can save me.
Do you think they and I know love?
Do you think that love is all we need?
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