Like Chaucer's Canterbury tales
When three men find a pot of gold,
And end up killing one another in the name of greed.

Some people are poison,
Under my skin like opium.
And I'll stare in their eye to annoy them,
Oh they're poison, yeah they're poison.

Admissions of liabilities,
I'm living in my own private cold war,
In a room full of spies and I can't find the door.

Some people are poison,
Under my skin like opium.
And I'll stare in their eye to annoy them,
Oh they're poison, yeah they're poison.

The violent aspects of a tattered man,
Let me respond to that if i can,
Illuminated Manuscripts written by hand,
Accusations have been made form the very beginning.

Some people are poison,
Under my skin like opium.
And I'll stare in their eye to annoy them,
Oh they're poison, yeah they're poison.

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