The winter is upon us and the time is right for haunting moody music to be played while out and about driving through the falling leaves and golden trees.  Here is one that was with us today….

Tongue That Canot Lie

I was born with a tongue that cannot lie
and how it grieves me
Each fleeting thought behind my eye
just up and leaves me
Into the wild, like a bastard child
born under a briar
Oh to be a liar

I’ve been courted by saints and by sinners
who all know the things that a tongue can tell
Whose discrete invitations for sweet revelations
Were such an enticement to sell
But the street price of secrets seduced
and reduced me to trading without any care
Oh to be a liar.

So in conscience I chose to avoid those consumed
by ambitions of earthly dominion
But even this act, the omission of fact
Just delighted The Lords of Opinion
And in retreat from it all I did fall for a man
Who swore that my words were a blessing

But for each of the beautiful daughters we bore
I betrayed all the joy in my heart
Each harmless invention or childlike convention
I brutally shattered apart
Some say love is saying the way that it is
But believe me it just isn’t so
For the joy of surprises, the tooth-fairy wonder
And Halloween guises were all torn asunder

And the lovely mistruths that I so longed to utter
Dissolved in the blink of a tear just like butter
Oh to be a liar.
For a tongue that can’t lie shall cause the meek to cry
cruel words to cut them through
And a tongue that can’t lie
Shall cause the righteous few to silence all that is true
Oh to be a liar.

Now I wander these earthly lands from pole to pole
And from shore to lonely shore
Seeking concealment in corners but somehow
the world still descends on my door
Afflicted, addicted I pray for a potion
To take all my vision away
Oh to be a liar.

So tear out this tongue and stitch up these
barbarous eyes with which I see
And grant me the right
To spare you the cold callous cut of reality
Won’t you take all this knowing
and leave me with nothing, no nothing at all
Let me speak what I will and reserve all the rest
and I’ll walk through the world
Neither blighted nor blessed
For my sole modest wish now before my demise
Is to savour the sweetness and kindness of lies
Oh to be a liar.

For a tongue that can’t lie.

Karine Palwort