picture this, a scene we've played out a thousand times before.
her on your right side, me on your left side, which do you want more?
little secrets, misunderstandings, I'm his darkest jewel.
A prize for the crown, and what a pretty lady, but her voice is so cruel.

But the stains that you left were just too dark to wash out,
So I dyed my clothes blood red.
And when you leave you won't ever see me shake or hear me cry,
"It's just so hard to say goodbye,"
it's easy when I try,
on the count of 1, 2, 3.

I'm half broken over you, ask anyone and they'll say,
"Oh, what a wretched, empty amphora,
eyes like her skies, so grey."
I've studied my Shakespeare and learned my youth
would have best been ended in death.
Ophelia or Cordelia, you're not getting any younger.
Turn around, you're lady Macbeth.

But the chains I cast off were just another part of me,
now I'm less whole than I was.
And you always had such pretty eyes, I'll hold them to my heart.
It's just so hard to say goodbye,
but it's easy when I try,
on the count of 1, 2, 3.

And when they come to take me away
I'll be wearing my best smile for you.
And when they come I'll turn the lights down low
and play them my new song,
and this is how it goes:

I may not look like much, but my nails are still sharp enough
to show these little whores whose world they're living in now.