Treehouse of Horror - Joan of Arc

Lay by your side
My lungs sigh as yours rise
And I think of all the ways that this tragedy could not end
But if I am the knife, you are the master play write
Use your words just like weapons to pen yourself out with lies
Would you put down your pen
If I gave you the end
You hung high on your cross with your nails still in hand
Your sharpie stigmata
A self proclaimed martyr
Bleed for your god
But that crown of thorns is not yours
Did you cry and pull the curtains
Wipe your tears cause what's the purpose
If your problems are imaginary you're the one who caused this
Crush with ink the whites of your dry eyes
Guilty minds write better lies
But I know the truth
But I know you
Joan of Arc
You can't wash this stain

Written by:
Ryan Ulc

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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