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They’re out to get you, aren’t they?
The kids, the man, the chicks, the breaks
I don’t care what you think anymore
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
Is there nothing you cannot replace?
You speak lioness and damsel in distress so fluently
Does your every single relation end in pain and misery?
You’re a paper machete
You’re a paper machete
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