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When the moon grows thin
And the shadows cast a grin
Upon the cherry-red floors
And the frowning leaves drop their chin
Like how a amputee plays the violin
There'll be you cornered in the dark
And you'll be with the fleeting mad monarch
Living like Joan of Arc
When the light withers away
And Dean Martin has no legs to sway
Upon the beach with no waves
And the swimsuits run and they play
Like how they scream for the escapade
There'll be no one (there) to light a spark
And you'll be trapped once again without your heart
Burning like Joan of Arc
When the trial hasn't begun
And before the holymen are unrightfully hung
Upon the cold wrath of your enemies stake
And all the magic metal men whisper run
Like how they pray to you the brightest burning sun
There'll be millions bare as bark
And you know god's grace leaves its marks
Digging like Joan of Arc
When you don't know how to feel
And the army's starving it begins to kneel
Upon the gates of heaven below the shores of hell
And the way to win is concealed
Like Salvadore painting the surreal
There'll be on Noah's ark
And they don't know how to swim they're surrounded by sharks
Swimming with Joan of Arc
When the sunsets upon the shore
And the frowning trees tally the score
Upon the bloodstains of their Earth
And the soldiers froth with war
Like glass houses made of stone doors
There'll be one ship sailing, the Bismarck
And all they say ends with a quiet question mark
Reading like Joan of Arc
When no one has any grit
And they fight with words without any wit
Upon the graves of their own lies
And they've lost their souls their spit
Like the Houdini-disguised hypocrites
There'll be the ones who sing like larks
And they'll have dead faces that stare so stark
Hating her 'cause she's Joan of Arc
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jonas Brothers
And the shadows cast a grin
Upon the cherry-red floors
And the frowning leaves drop their chin
Like how a amputee plays the violin
There'll be you cornered in the dark
And you'll be with the fleeting mad monarch
Living like Joan of Arc
When the light withers away
And Dean Martin has no legs to sway
Upon the beach with no waves
And the swimsuits run and they play
Like how they scream for the escapade
There'll be no one (there) to light a spark
And you'll be trapped once again without your heart
Burning like Joan of Arc
When the trial hasn't begun
And before the holymen are unrightfully hung
Upon the cold wrath of your enemies stake
And all the magic metal men whisper run
Like how they pray to you the brightest burning sun
There'll be millions bare as bark
And you know god's grace leaves its marks
Digging like Joan of Arc
When you don't know how to feel
And the army's starving it begins to kneel
Upon the gates of heaven below the shores of hell
And the way to win is concealed
Like Salvadore painting the surreal
There'll be on Noah's ark
And they don't know how to swim they're surrounded by sharks
Swimming with Joan of Arc
When the sunsets upon the shore
And the frowning trees tally the score
Upon the bloodstains of their Earth
And the soldiers froth with war
Like glass houses made of stone doors
There'll be one ship sailing, the Bismarck
And all they say ends with a quiet question mark
Reading like Joan of Arc
When no one has any grit
And they fight with words without any wit
Upon the graves of their own lies
And they've lost their souls their spit
Like the Houdini-disguised hypocrites
There'll be the ones who sing like larks
And they'll have dead faces that stare so stark
Hating her 'cause she's Joan of Arc
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jonas Brothers
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