Lies, lies. I know not what they mean.
Lies from your heart of sick despair,
Rise from your mouth unseen.
Loud refrain without much care,
As I hear your faithless blare.
Sad as the past that haunts your mind,
I see you what you really are.
No walk of contentment do you find,
As from truth you’ve run so far.
You lie then run, how utterly bizarre!
Your music plays hard in the key of lie.
Words from your hate dance in the sky,
Shattering the American way.
The music is harsh but on you play,
What more can an American say.
Soul’s dark shadow, when the soul is dead,
Makes music for the liberal’s bed.
Heaped in the song of the liar’s voice,
Is nothing but an empty noise.
And so it is for those who made their choice.
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