A lie, the Lie, or where there I'm lying
The words spoken instant instead
As a chug of the wine, as a chunk of the bread
Go straight, as I'm lying ahead.
What it going to be then?
What will You expect?
Be that my works, or my love You'll neglect
Or shameful stories, upon Your respect,
That ones, that my old friends could elect?
What, what should it be, my love, what should it be?
The high waves and wild foam of the sea?
The negative source of material being
The truth, of my words, that You further can see?
No match. There's no match in a language I speak.
You're holding no truth in the life, that I seek
There's no more answers, rather unique,
Then the false words of Your speak.
So shut up. Spare my coins this time.
Your faith is no longer a friend of mine.