how could I be so naive
and believe
all your attempts to deceive?
now I question with guilt
how many stories have you built?
have you woven a small patch, or a whole quilt?
how could I be so blind
while played with my mind
and fed me truths you had designed?
you have betrayed my trust
the connection between us has withered to dust
I try to look upon you with disgust
but there's some part of me that feels
perhaps our rifts could heal
if only you could learn that to lie is to steal