Whisper carefully

I’ll try to whisper this carefully
As I cry
About the lies

The world is drowning in sorrow
And she says she is fine
Waking up
Putting on her neat little dress
She knows nothing
Of the mess
She pays her tithe
In her smiles
Visiting the holy ghost
And the father who she loves most

The world is drowning in lies
And she says it is fine
Keeping the truth
In her bosom
Only to let people
Unlace the doors
On Sunday mornings
When the bells chime
There can’t be any other place or time

I try to whisper carefully
The cry
That are my lies
When will I give up
This idealism
That I dress up
As something that people can’t see
When I talk of it as my invisible friend
Next to me

I am drowning in the world of sorrow
Sitting on the fence of concentration
Knowing the hell of tomorrow
Receiving my eucharism
And my salvation
Either I work and lead the ladies
To the gas
Or I die in my life of lies
as the smell of corpses pass

I find myself
In love with her
Who undresses
For any ignorance for sure
Can’t I tear apart
My soul?
What kind of art
Is this ignorance?