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The words spoken, the tidings you portray
Have been an illusion, you are a disgrace
Of the life you showed you live
And of everybody who has taken what you give
How much the pleasure has been for you
And they derive it of you, and you too do
But some day the winds shall blow clear
And the face of your falsehood shall be painted
Across the eyes of many a men
And then you shall ask, was it really a sin
You shall be answered, but not in haste
For you have lived life , a waste
laid waste, and spoken the same
And then you shall find remorse ever again
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