These little lies,
that only let us by for so long. Until we lose our ties,
with those who we try to stand by.
But these lies who never go away, even when we show and cry.
Cry for the better of our lives,
we lose everyday.
Because we are lies ourselves, made of poison and death.
Made of nothing but the lies that keep coming back,
like flies that never die.
No matter how much we try.