A lie told and bought.
That's his business.
What can he plea to survive under good graces
What can he cry to be bathed in sympathy
What can he scream to make you bleed deep
What can he sing to make your knees go weak
He knows it all, but himself.
How clever can a boy be when he doesn't know his own identity?
When pressed for an answer,
he will run
he will hide
And when alone, he will whisper, 'I am a liar.'