Heidi, there are things you couldn't possibly know,
It's a race of angels alive in the snow, It's a flame in the dark, a ... tune.
He's the patron saint of nothingness, there's nothing he can do.

'Cause it's out of these hands.
He's not a god, no, he is merely a man.
And so, I'm telling everybody, "I will not come undone",
Being so superior is just no fucking fun, Oh, oh, oh, 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.
Well, nothing really changes and that's true.
Oh, Heidi, I am many things, but I thank God I'm not like you.

Those kids of today, they think they're so damn profound.
You give them one slim book of 'Keroack' and they're ready to expand.
All the weight of the world of what makes things art.
They couldn't find your their way around Kentucky on the map of a human heart.

So it's out of my hands.
I'm not a god 'cause I will never be a man.
And so, I'm telling everybody, "I've learned to fill the hole",
I'm baking cakes on Suday for the tea-time of my soul, Oh, oh, oh, 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.
Oh, nothing really changes and that's true.
Oh, Heidi, I am many things, but I thank God I'm not like you.

'Cause 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.
Oh, nothing really changes and that's true.
Oh, Heidi, I am many things, but I thank God I'm not like you, Oh.