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
But it’s all the same, and it’s where I belong
Then I’ve made quite a mess of things
But if it’s innocent, then it’s where I belong
We’ve surely made a mess of things
But it's all the same, and it's right 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 it was
All you held out for
Oh harlot, pure of heart
Pure of heart, is this passion compassion
Press on, press on, press on
We will press on
