Harlot

For all I care you could be an angel lying upon a cloud, but I'd still breach the mighty heavens to desecrate your wings. I'd hold this gift far enough from your grasp to keep your begging hands. You see, I know the formula for getting what I want.
If it's all the same, if it's where I belong...then I've made quite a mess of things. If it's innocent, then it's where I belong....we've made quite a mess of things.
And I am everything you want...all you held out for. Is this what is was, all you held out for? O harlot, pure of heart. Pure of heart, is this passion compassion. Press on, press on, we will press on.