This thing is useful but of no use to me;
Oh sweet, lies are good evils that hurt my mean,
I know you love the lies, the lies that feed your mean!
Oh sweet, lies are good evils that hurt my mean.
I see you from afar, you lied to feed hunger,
Without your sweat, you starve the naïve hunger.
You're a useless tool, your lies can murder,
You're a good devil, a needless required liar.
Your lies lies in the lines of the dead living lips
They beats, they sweeps and they cleans the world of other lips,
It saves the killed and kills the saves; your humble lips.
As gentle serpent with weird venom, so are your lips.
"words from the innocent mind"