Any other pales
She was the best type of jail
The rarest gem to find
Yet she was the worst of her kind

It's a shame that I'm alive, then she could love me the
most, unless of course I should die young then surely
I'd haunt her as a ghost

There's nowhere to hide
memories are there until you die
A clothed youthful dream
undressed by fragile broken seams

A farce on parade, with the look of a liar
it's a powerful thing that she preached
A promise not made, with feet to the fire
it's a thing that she held out of reach
I'm caught up in her mane
To quit or carry on is the same
A with like a scar remains

Any other pales, she was the best type of jail
The rarest gem to find, yet she was the worst of her kind
It's a shame that I'm alive, then she could love me the most
unless of course I should die young, then I'd haunt her as a ghost