...

If I told you, sweet child,
Of the lies you will come to know as true,
Would you leave?
Would you take your life and pack it into a bag,
Carry it across the sea,
And search for an answer?
Or would you stay with me,
Sweet child,
And drink it in like a babe at her mothers' breast?
Would you preach it,
Sing it like a siren,
With words on your lips and legs and hips?
And would you like it?
Or would you fight it,
Like a soldier, like a killer,
Like an angel?
Would you try to relieve the Earth of it's sins,
Take the world off of its shoulders,
Give it a happily ever after?
But I wouldn't help you,
My darling,
Because what is this life to me?
Merely a lie I've come to know as true.