There is a thread - a thread that links me to you - and there's a line in the dark which marks the break between two separate beings. And there was the night, and the sky, and the dirt and the streets, and hands we held. You painted your eyes pink and blue - - you still do, when it gets cold. Thinking “I've been with angels a couple of times; I've held hands with saints, once or twice; But those devils will only make you cry - don't tease with possibilities tonight”. I heard that sometimes a thing can exist without proof, but find me a ring if you like that can tie me to you. Bury my heart in a story, commit it to tape, and make it true - I hear that sometimes a thing exists without proof. Because, yes, I've been with angels a couple of times, and I've held hands with saints once or twice, and darling those devils will only make you cry.