45*21

oh, in this sub-symptom of lies
lives the half life true life
and we ask it for questions
did you say you got beaned by a leach
no, I want to wash off the sand from the beach
is the man sleeping with his maid
or is the maiden in relief
when we talk of sex we must tread lightly
or the light goes out briefly
that's okay grandpa hears that way too
did you say "he hates school"
then simpletons preach truth
I love the life lies
but they hate to be told the truth
but stories are told
all the same, we know nothing of the truth
it snaps us from behind
like some errant towel in the shower
of a high school locker room
let the pigs blood flow
and the Eight Is Enough Mother know