The prevaricator looks like you or me;
He reads the newspaper, he drinks his tea.
Only one thing makes him not the same
But is he really the one to blame?
Everyone lies.
It’s a shame that we are all condemned to this fate;
To play the Lying Game the Devil’s mate.
Or is it just human nature as designed
To take our time and screw the mind?
Everyone lies.
We never grow out of it, no matter how old
It seems the older we get; the more lies unfold!
The tales we weave and the steps we take
All lead up to the white lies me make.
Everyone lies.
And the prevaricator looks at this and sees
Unskilled people like tiny snow peas,
Pushing the future and tripping fate
Sitting there like a fisherman’s bait.
Everyone lies.
The only one thing that makes him disparate
Is his use of sesquipedality against the illiterate.
Maybe one day we can hope to change
But until then life shall remain a bit strange.
Everyone lies.
