The strongest words are born from lust,
the strongest men from deed
but it's my own heartbroken mumbling
that keeps the master in his feed
he comes by day,
takes fears away
but nighttime lets them breed
The strongest scotch
or lemonade
would neither dull my pain
the master speaks, and all obey
his words morbid and deranged
my self esteem,
by cardinal's call
falls swiftly down the drain
he asks the young to take his hand,
the actress plays her part
but she's no marvel, for indeed
with a thickening of the heart
I realize all my love and pride
was empty from the start
and listen well, my words are true
heed the sorrow on my face
"it takes no art to make one believe
what one wants to be the case"
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