Lies, like wives in their guise
Stringing their husbands in a vice
Like Mice, oh so nice
That oh my, It shines in those lines
Those fine lines between signs
And its rhymes, it’s sublime
And yes, that’s not mine
He wines and dines the girl
But that’s not fine
Who is she, she’s not mine
But it’s all fake, it’s okay
Cause at the end, it’s just, Hey.
It’s fate. What you say?
I have no faith. That it’s okay.
Because faith is fake and fate is
Checkmate.
Who they are. Are they who you are?
