Joan of Arc

Pretty baby must be high
She swings like a monkey through the sky
Who would have thought the she could fly?
Most of us never stop to try
I’ve got Picasso Domino’s
Tickets and matchbooks to places that I don’t go
Telephone numbers of people who speak the truth
Truth is a language like Latin
That I can’t use
The girls on the metro are looking fine
I’m telling myself that life is kind
I know the man who can turn back time
I’d like to think that he’s a friend of mine
A couple of habits that I would like to break
Like standing the candles on my birthday cake
And faking it when I am already a fake
Or trying to be good just for, goodness sake
Maybe tomorrow I’ll be, Joan of Arc
It’s unrealistic, hey, but it’s a start
I’ll burn at the stake, with my liberty heart
My humble attempt to shed some light on the dark
I’ll be Joan of Arc
I’ll be Joan of Arc