Angels with broken wings

I stand with fallen angels who turned into  mischievous devils  Standing at the waters edge throwing rocks and skimming pebbles  We watch as they bounce across the water top, the surface so flat and level  Mirroring the sun and then the moon, cascading across the ripples  Lost in thought and deep conversation, enthralled amongst the devilment and giggles  People say we live in sin, but we say it depends how it is that you decipher the riddles  And do you see in black and white left or right no grey or dubious middles  We still sing with our broken wings and the epithets of being Devils  Because as long as we're not like the rest we happily wear that medal