White Pages

A little lost and go for broke the lives that cost maintain to choke, the lying game that voices play the suit and tie have worked no day, in tired sleep the open hands and screaming eyes closed huge demands, alibis to heads corrupt is charity prepared abrupt, some want for child and cheaper oil the takers burn and diapers soil, so sharing has a better face tho chosen gift will time erase, ungrateful words for those of will the speakers wonder why they kill, and while we're on the leeches' cloy I'll speak a cell on my new toy, disarming of the victims-race will put an aim to egg on face, the hypocrite doth die too soon below the bleeding breaking moon, I walk with grave and sacrifice to play the devil at least twice, suffer in the newborn storm is not the way of warrior norm, so pity me and pretty that more than one way to skin a cat.