Tell ya little story 'bout some friends of mine, won't mention any names,
They were featured in this magazine that plays a two-faced game,
The writer, well, he took their side...or so it seemed until the interview was over, and he moved in for the kill.
He went for the throat, but he left a little note 'cause didn't have the guts to say the things he should have said in the presence of his prey.
My fair-weather friend, hide behind your trusty fountain pen.
History repeats itself time and time again, and when your world comes crashing down it's hard to find a friend,
Reminds me of a desperate man who gave a deadly kiss,
The cock crows for a second man who couldn't take the risk.
He went for the throat, but he left a little note 'cause didn't have the guts to say the things he should have said in the presence of his prey.
My fair-weather friend, hide behind your trusty fountain pen,
My-my, my fair-weather friend, casting stones won't save you in the end.
He went for the throat, but he left a little note 'cause didn't have the guts to say the things he should have said in the presence of his prey.
My fair-weather friend, hide behind your trusty fountain pen,
My-my, my fair-weather friend, casting stones won't save you in the end.
