The Following
Believe anythingfollow someone anywhere
Lost vibes, lost tribes riches in the air
Listen to the crazy words
Promises made like paper dolls cut and burn
Never turn a blind eye inside to see what is there
Stare into the bottomless void try to avoid the pit
It is right in front, behind the man with the rotten screptre
Clutched so tightly in his bony hand,
Lie Lie Lie
Lie Lie Lie
Lie Lie Lie
Rule the mob
Cast the die
Follow someone anywhere
Believe anything
Blindly Following . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2015-12-12 at 23:39
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