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