Shattered thoughts and the vacant stare
Lends a lost ear to the dreamers dare
To conceive, deceive and ultimately believe
In the morsels of truth to which we cleave
Conceive
Conception is the jest of a forked tongue
The spoken lies mistranslated through pun
Knocks at the door of the deaf and dumb
The heart opens to the one who must succumb
Deceive
Strolling into the inner sanctum we find the thief
Head down and smiling as the innocent give relief
The dreamer wickedly gives that old familiar laugh
As she watches them worship their golden calf
Believe
Forgiveness is for the sake of those that are lost
But the found may not find redemption at any cost
The found are shamelessly clawing at their own skin
And the sinner will always come back for the sin
Its just a question of who, where and when
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