Fabricator, Deep Down
Take my hand and help me feel.
It's been so long- the day I felt.
Emotions all usually come to tears-
With hearty confessions held in for years.
This bed I make so full of lies
Will be the death of me.
Oh how I hate this pretty stranger
That smiles all out, but boils with anger.
Queerer, queerer- all is all;
This groom of fabrication;
Has no one for love and lust,
So lie to live. He must, he must.