Scars on my soul don't mean I've broken,
surely you must be joking?
When I went into the Church they sought to make me fold
but here I stand, pockets fat and lined with gold.

Felicity, child, you got one thing wrong:

I'll draw a line across your neck
Embossed with red, you know that feeling well-
That's what its like when you choke
Victim ain't what I am, its what I make
So pray the gods your soul to take.