If truth were nothing but a blur
Would the rumors fly on broken wings
Facts served out of can size meals
Lies leaving dents in side cars driven
By mystified stories of blusterous beings
Would history make any money
Selling its news to TV anchors
Who only twist the hands of fate
How would it come about
Where would it end if it had no beginning
What would the middle man's beat be
How would it be foretold if it had no before
So it may seem as a blur
As truth only starts out as a hazy remark
Untwist the hands of time
As history unfolds iself
Leaving manuscripts of unanswered questions
Questionable doubt lynches itself
Through remarkable words
With expeditive tension
Trapped beneath the big hand of epic proportions
Open your eyes to clarify opinionated intelligence
Impressions left in the sands of time