Mike Dakota

Paper Wings ©2018 Words and Music

by Mike Dakota

As we walk the halls of evolution,

we begin to see a design,

to climb out of the ocean

and swim in the divine.

Of all the steps we have taken,

the divine is hardest to find,

and it will be, until we see,

we've been swimming in it all this time.

Angels fly on paper wings,

high on my Christmas tree,

and trumpets blow to remind me,

angels I fail to see would be you and me.

How can there be separation

between us and divinity,

when all throughout creation,

it has filled infinity.

When we look in the mirror,

we are fooled easily.

and we will be, until we see,

we’re right where we thought we'd be eventually.

Angels fly on paper wings,

high on my Christmas tree,

and trumpets blow to remind me,

angels I fail to see would be you and me.

We can keep pretending,

we only get there at the end,

or understand, start lending a hand,

and be part of what is now beginning to land.

Everyone you see, including you and me,

whether you believe or doubt, you are an angel now.

Angels fly on paper wings,

high on my Christmas tree,

and trumpets blow to remind me,

angels I fail to see would be you and me.

I see, the angels we be.

Angels, you and me. Paper Wings ©2018 Words and Music

by Mike Dakota

As we walk the halls of evolution,

we begin to see a design,

to climb out of the ocean

and swim in the divine.

Of all the steps we have taken,

the divine is hardest to find,

and it will be, until we see,

we've been swimming in it all this time.

Angels fly on paper wings,

high on my Christmas tree,

and trumpets blow to remind me,

angels I fail to see would be you and me.

How can there be separation

between us and divinity,

when all throughout creation,

it has filled infinity.

When we look in the mirror,

we are fooled easily.

and we will be, until we see,

we’re right where we thought we'd be eventually.

Angels fly on paper wings,

high on my Christmas tree,

and trumpets blow to remind me,

angels I fail to see would be you and me.

We can keep pretending,

we only get there at the end,

or understand, start lending a hand,

and be part of what is now beginning to land.

Everyone you see, including you and me,

whether you believe or doubt, you are an angel now.

Angels fly on paper wings,

high on my Christmas tree,

and trumpets blow to remind me,

angels I fail to see would be you and me.