Go on and throw them to the wolves my sweet angels.
Go on and lead them to the woods and run.
You say you're not afraid when the bright sun falls away.
But I know you're a liar you tend to give it away.
And I think it's quite likely, I'm a terrible girl
Inside.
And you hate my intuition as I hate my stupid rhymes.
If you need me I'll be around, you can ask me any
Questions.
I'll tell you whatever you think you need to hear, any
Lie or confession.
And if you need me I'll be right here, In the seas or in
The quarries.
I'll have all my papers and books and calligraphy pens to
Tell your brilliant story.
And I think it's quite likely I'm a terrible girl inside
And you hate my intuition as I hate my wretched pride.
So go on and throw me to the wolves my murderous angels.
Just lead me to the naked and vicious woods and run.
