Pretty baby must be high She swings like a monkey through the sky Who would have thought that she could fly? Most of us never stop to try I've got Picasso Domino's Tickets and matchbooks to places that I don't go Telephone numbers of people who speak the truth Truth is a language like Latin That I can't use The girls on the metro are looking fine I'm telling myself that life is kind I know the man who can turn back time I'd like to think that he's a friend of mine A couple of habits that I would like to break Like stacking the candles on my birthday cake And faking it when I am already a fake Or trying to be good just for, goodness sake Maybe tomorrow I'll be, Joan of Arc It's unrealistic, hey, but it's a start I'll burn at the stake, with my liberty heart My humble attempt to shed some light on the dark I'll be Joan of Arc I'll be Joan of Arc