Part Duex

Try not to hide behind things
that give away your lies' lines;
sneak beside the trees, through the grass and twigs and leaves,
like the snake that you are,
slithering into any crack in the foundation that you can find.

If I could tell stories, I'd want to tell them just like you do.
Lies never seemed more real.

Caught; but where's the truth hiding?
Sought after, all in due time.
What matters, now, is whether this is ending or beginning.

If I could tell stories, I'd want to tell them just like you do.
Lies never felt more real.

So purposeful, the notes singing through strummed strings;
the frets so worn, but worn by me.
They were my frets, and they were my strings.
You took them.
You took them and gave them away.
And all for what?
Don't we all have bills to pay?