| I found a bow, and a little wooden arrow
|
| In a store that was full of nothing that I was there for
|
| I bought it for a song I had saved up in a pocket
|
| And I tucked it in my coat, like a sniper with a rocket
|
| I walked around the cold, cold town, just a maiden on a mission
|
| Consumed with ideas of revenge and redemption
|
| But you’ve got to learn to shoot first
|
| If you’re aiming to kill
|
| I practiced on a target in a park with empty benches
|
| And the little wooden arrow closed on in each time by inches
|
| Then one day the little arrow found the mark of his endeavor
|
| And the crazy-eyed old bull, he was blinded forever
|
| I set out on a hunt, with my arrow and my bow
|
| Til in my sights had fallen one who hurt me long ago
|
| But then I knew I never could have killed him all along
|
| So I returned the bow and arrow and the store gave back this song
|
| I walked around the cold, cold town, just a maiden on a mission
|
| She never had ideas of revenge and redemption
|
| Shouldn’t’ve ever messed cupid’s arrow all along
|
| I returned the bow and arrow and the store gave back my song |