HOLE TRUTH

Crooked conversation is the art form of our age
And it’s not just politicians anymore
You can’t get an honest answer
And there are no simple facts
And straight forward isn’t either, that’s for sure
You can ask your family doctor
You can call on Madam Rue
You can dial the Psychic Hotline if you choose
You can notify Dear Abbey
You can make the preacher stew
But truth is just a game you’re going to lose

Spin doctored information is the only kind we get
Custom tailored to somebody else’s needs
It’s not the facts that falter
Black and white are still the same
But rumor seldom recognizes deeds
Whatever are we thinking
When we trade the truth for lies?
Was there ever once they really served us well?
We can trace each grand disaster
To the first small damning lie
As we blithely talk our way straight into Hell