Some people never lie, or so we’re told
Like this man. No, not me - the Big Fella!
But if we only knew, blood would run cold
It’s almost enough to make you follow
Him, except that the truth ratio is low
There also. Where do you go for relief
When time and time again you’re left solo
It just feels wrong to rely on belief
To find some comfort, sneaking like a thief
Into a house of thieves, hypocrites, old
Or simply boring. That’s not the answer
Only doing what I want, there’s less grief
That way. But what is that? Nothing to hold
On to or for right now. Feels eviller
No comments:
Post a Comment