the noose shaped lie constricts my throat slithering the nape of my neck their ways they are not like my own for my words are not venomous truth has many faces they know nothing of my thoughts for i too keep secrets a forked tongue is easily hidden behind a grin their intentions aren t hard to read nightfall brings with it the scent of the morgue calling forth the slithering liar my lies shall rot with me for i m an honest man whether worm or serpent they slither and i have bedded down beside them contradicting my word your throat is choked with dust but still your tongue is forked you ramble on with cursed words until i cut it out my lies shall rot with me for i m an honest man