Harlot on Holy Hill

If I threw myself down at your altar
And I proclaimed myself to be that harlot, that hooker
Could you handle the role you sought out as saviour?
I suspect that you are but an immature soul
And that your ego and your judgements have outwitted their home
I don’t have the answers either but I choose to go alone
My successes and my failures, I take them as my own
I am a harlot
I am alive