^CLike Chaucer's ^ECanterbury Tales When ^Athree men find a pot of gold and end up ^Fkilling one another in the name of greed CHORUS ^CSome ^Epeople are ^Apoison ^F Under my skin like opium And I'll stare in their eye to annoy them Well 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 cannot find the door CHORUS 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 CHORUS

Yeah, you're fucking poison^C ^B ^A# ^A

Rancid - Poison