I think it'd be grand
To be a thief all with my red hands
Making a grab at every single chance
And there are plenty around here
I'd say: Sweet providence
Show me a taste, a little consequence
Something to make me wanna repent
'Cause I'm so far out of bounds here

I'm no bystander

Call it a paradox
A war that we wage all made of scissors and rocks
And paper, it came but only just to talk
But somehow won anyway
And as for treatises
Why would I lay out all my weaknesses?
And show just how bleak all of this bleakness is?
‘Cause I had nothing better to say?

If I write memoirs
I'll make up lies about how movie stars
Showed me all I know of what people are
We all want to be wanted around
How I saw Jesse James
With no desperation in his pale face
Took what he wanted and they gave chase
To every corner of town