When I was a little boy I looked under the stairs

The king and the pawns

Work all unawares

Standing in the shadows

A whisper to be

They're fishing in the darkness

Oh possibilities

Yeaaaaah

Yeah

Ooooh

I'm on with style and grace

Our highest hopes

Long standing still

The running joke

Where goes the warm embrace at fate?

Without return that lives to slip through fingertips and burn

They don't care what you think anymore

It doesn't matter anyway

Joan of Arc victim perpetrator

Just a paper machete

The truth is just a piece of clay

You sculpt, you change, you hide then you erase

You think you're brave? All the plans you made

Behind my back and from far away?

Truth is face to face you're a coward

Sharp as a paper machete

Now I know you'd use anything anyone

To make yourself look clean

In sickness, no vows mean anything

So long cruelty

So long too late

So long my love is dead

Oooooooh

Ooooooh

Ooooooh