Swords at throats and arrows fly
But the real fight isn't on the field tonight
Soldiers dye the ground carmine
And you'll lay a palm leaf to cover up the sight

Come and kneel to me
Oil caged ordained
Here to bring your reckoning
Prophecy is born
But soon you'll doubt and draw your swords
To those you fealty's sworn

Joan she's sick, a saint
Maybe a witch
Too late too choose now that your temper's lit
A devil's spy
She's infiltrated
Or a prophet from God here to be our savior

Seize a white dove by her feet
Paint her wings in black
As you set a raven's stage
Don't you see her pointed teeth
As her jaw retracts?
She must be the demon's maid

Are you scared of me?
I must lie with Satan
For you to find me threatening
Say it's all my fault
Then you'll go burn a girl or two
So you don't have to fall

Joan she's sick, a saint
Maybe a witch
Too late too choose now that your temper's lit
A helpless girl
Manipulated
Or a prophet from God here to be our savior

Maybe she was evil
Maybe she was good
Maybe you saw a sick young girl
And ego overtook
Maybe she was a demon
Maybe she was divine
Maybe you don't send babes to war
To be you holy guide
Maybe she was a soldier
Maybe she was a blight
Maybe she didn't deserve to die
For trying to survive
Maybe you were greedy
Maybe you were cruel
Maybe what we are or aren't
Doesn't matter much at all

Joan she's sick, a saint
Maybe a witch
Truly, who knows?
But you'll still go write your script
No say in how her own story's told
Till you pick and choose what bits fit into your mold

Joan she's sick, a saint
Maybe a witch
Truly, who knows?
But you'll still go write your script
No say in how her own story's told
Till you pick and choose what bits fit into your mold

Joan you were dead the day you came to this world