I think it'd be grand To be a thief all with my red hands Making a grab at every single chance And there are plenty around here I'd say: Sweet providence Show me a taste, a little consequence Something to make me wanna repent 'Cause I'm so far out of bounds here I'm no bystander Call it a paradox A war that we wage all made of scissors and rocks And paper, it came but only just to talk But somehow won anyway And as for treatises Why would I lay out all my weaknesses? And show just how bleak all of this bleakness is? ‘Cause I had nothing better to say? If I write memoirs I'll make up lies about how movie stars Showed me all I know of what people are We all want to be wanted around How I saw Jesse James With no desperation in his pale face Took what he wanted and they gave chase To every corner of town