The Tale. In its entirety.

The way you look at lips gets me suspicious but, I promise, I won’t judge

When you’re on the porch, asking for my forgiveness as your wife still holds a grudge.

I assume you didn’t tell the tale in its entirety either.

Only some bits. Only some pieces. You were never a bleeder,

Always the one leaving scratchless, without a wound to your honor.

The second sharp words are thrown, oh baby, you’re a goner.

Your face could heal a hundred scars if you didn’t sell it out to every fool

Who feeds on broken hearts. But I’m not surprised when you’re a tool

To all of them – who can play it cool. They know better, they don’t just drool

Over their cheap glass promises – that are also deemed as priceless.

What happened? Why did you leave broke and diceless?

I’m a daydream turning into a nightmare right before your eyes

Wish I could give you a warning about how being a jerk might hurt a bit.

Sorry, I didn’t leave a light on for you – but not like you’re not used to taking a hit.

Sorry, I can’t hide you from the tentacles of truth anymore. I don’t want to.

Hope there’s someone else buying into your auctions, and your cheap ass tattoo.

Don’t take it wrong – my apologies mean nothing, and I learned it from you trying

To pull a truth out of a magician’s hat filled with dead rabbits and your fake crying.