I sing you lies
Like Lullabies.
The guilt slides off me
And you'll never realize
That these wise eyes
Are a prized guise
Fashioned to capitalize
On cries
Off all shapes and size.
Cries for blood
Cries of pain
Cries for God
Cries in vain
Once you catch on
(you won't)
We'll label you insane.
In the meantime...
I'll be planning the next Holocaust
Miles above you on my
Jet plane.