Heidi, there are things you couldn't possibly know.
It's a race of angels; a line in the snow;
A flame in the dark; a prayer to Saint Jude.
He's the patron saint of nothingness: there's nothing he can do.
'Cos it's all, all in my hands.
He's not a god. No, he is only a man.
So I'm telling everybody I will not come undone.
But being so superior is just no fucking fun.
No...
If I had a gun, I think I'm able.
If I had a gun I'd know what to do.
If I had a gun I would be perfectly unstable.
But nothing really changes then, that's true.
Oh, Heidi, I am many things, but I thank God I'm not like you.
'Cos kids of today; they think they're so damn profound.
You give them one slim book of Kerouac and they're ready to expound
On the way of the world; on what makes things art.
They couldn't find their way around Kentucky or the map of a human heart.
So it's all in my hands.
I'm not a god 'cos I will never be a man.
So I'm telling everybody I've learnt to fill the hole.
I'm baking cakes on Sunday for the teatime of the soul.
Oh...
If I had a gun, I think I'm able.
If I had a gun I'd know what to do.
If I had a gun I would be perfectly unstable.
But nothing really changes then, that's true.
Oh, Heidi, I am many things, but I thank God I'm not like you.
'Cos...
I have a heart. I think it beats.
I don't say things I do not mean to appear clever.
Oh, Heidi, I'm not you.
Maybe that's strange to you.
Maybe I'm just strange...
If I had a gun, I think I'm able.
If I had a gun I'd know what to do.
If I had a gun I would be perfectly unstable.
But nothing really changes then, that's true.
Oh, Heidi, I am many things, but I thank God I'm not like you.