The Edge Of Words 
Words and Music By Anne Stott 

Angels in the corner whispering my name 
Sunsets going down every single day 
Messages arrive undeciphered and unclaimed 
Dreams are lost to sleep while speaking unknown names 

There's a blank wall hanging over me waiting for its sign 
There's a clock ticking endlessly that can't tell time 
There are days remembered so others can be forgot 
Everything keeps spinning when I wish it would stop 

I'm on the edge of words, the fine line of reason 
With waves of dissent and daily hints of treason 
There are secrets in the wind and a stillness in the park 
Ghosts are rising from the asphalt, I'm prospecting for stars 

My virginity ran rampant when I was fifteen 
The reality of age was more than I could redeem 
My name has been written in heaven and in hell 
If I believed in either one that'd be something to tell 

I'm on the edge of words, the fine line of reason 
With waves of dissent and daily hints of treason 
There are secrets in the wind and a stillness in the park 
Ghosts are rising from the asphalt, I'm prospecting for stars 

Ghosts are rising in the park
Stealing secrets from the dark
Ghosts are rising it's long past dark
The wind is riding falling stars

Goodness hides in alley ways, waiting for the truth 
Who plays tricks on passersby expecting their due 
All the longing in the world won't bring sadness to an end 
So let loose your tears my friend the angels understand 

I'm on the edge of words, some fine line of reason 
With waves of dissent and daily hints of treason 
There are secrets in the wind and a stillness in the park 
Ghosts are rising from the asphalt, I'm prospecting for stars 

© 2007 Anne Stott. All rights reserved.

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