The white knights of the liars field
They hold candles in each hand
They seek beer in romance
They see the worse in the past
The most in the present
And they tell all kind of stories
Like me, the singer of this jukebox
They never tell no lie
They just have stories
The white liars of the knights field
Fight you with no fist
Bite you with no teeth
They're just snakes
Poison you with their myth