That Knife In Your Back

We were the biggest cliché.
St. Valentine must have had hope,
because he made us wait.
Though, we still jumped the gun,
and we should have known better
than to break through the scenes.

But my darling,
You look so great with that knife in your back.
I always knew red was your color.
Dear, how splendid, that knife in your back.
I always thought I was hurting you,
I never imagined I was doing myself in.

You were bound and determined,
must have been sick of being alone,
because you said everything perfect,
and you knew that you had won.
Bringing up our differences,
how perfect, and don't you even dare
to forget the past we've shared.

But my darling,
You look so great with that knife in your back.
I always knew red was your color.
Dear, how splendid, that knife in your back.
I got so tired of hurting you,
so I start to pry the steel from your spine.

I'm a damn good liar,
and I never gave you credit.
I'm glad that you got that boost
you so desperately needed.
Because the tables have turned,
and I think to myself, smiling.
Remembering the days when I was alone,
and wondering why it feels different now,

Probably because,
You looked so great with that knife in your back.
I always thought red was your color.
Dear, you found it, that knife in your back.
I only wish you hadn't returned it.