She may not be bad,

But she's not all good.

Sunlight with shadows,

Lumps in your oatmeal.

She's like tripping

On a rose petal

At your own wedding,

Tumbling down the aisle,

And landing at the altar.

You struggle to your feet,

Look around and blink,

Try to come to your senses.

But when your mind's back together,

There's nothing left to do

But kiss the bride.

Yeah, she's a sometime angel.