Light and Harsh

In them is the music.

Round their sweet heads the song.
Peace sent in time, well timed, well.
Sometimes we live possesed by angels.
Blessed nights, painless days, fine mist cooling hot heads.
Pleas for some kind of relief machine.
Sometimes we´re forgiven, like our dirty clothes we are washed.
Seldom the heavenly breeze comes and aliviates our nervous flesh.
Our conscience can crush us with it´s noise, stealing our emotions.
You can fill our heads with what is right, but you´ll never lead by example.
Re-ignite faith in life with some inspired speech, your empty box with a thousand of labels.
Sometimes forgetting it all started with "what?".