Your love isn’t pure, but neither am I,
A saint in the shadow of a sinner’s sky.
I’m no angel, but I trace your name,
In halos of smoke, we burn the same.

Speak in tongues,
let the smoke curl slow,
burn my name in the dark
where no angels go.

This isn’t love;
it’s a spark, a dare—
take me higher, baby,
leave me there.