I'm a heretic
you're a downright prick,
god we make it good.

Shouldn't we say
enough is enough
but neither you nor I
knows where the hell
we are.

Way up high,
way below,
waves through windows,
the wilderness in me.

I've got no place to go,
no one to stop me,
no one to say 
just act your age,
just turn the page.

New leaf, what's that?
The last recourse
of society is novel thought,
a remade staircase of opportunity.

Way up high,
way below,
waves through windows,
the wilderness in me.

We're far removed,
we're in the groove.
I'll see you down there,
as I suck the marrow
from your fucked up mind.

My true colours,
atrocity in orange:
You're my guarded terrorist,
the fist in my gut,
the stain on my dress,
my less is more,
you know the score.

Way up high,
way below,
waves through windows,
the wilderness in me.

I will if you will
take a step back from hell.
Better to head for home,
I'll cast the first stone.

Wanting, craving,
anticipating.
Baptise me with your spirit,
pull me through your needle,
hold me as I find you
and let me use you
like you know I should.