From Winamop.com

Such Lies. By Alex Wyte

The ring of the phone

tightens my guts

the charade must go on

the deceit will prevail

once it was true

now merely a front

"I love you, I miss you", and other such lies.

 

I go through the motions

not wishing to wound

she looks for my love, she looks for my touch

but I leave her

alone

as I climb into bed

and whisper once more

"I love you, I want you", and other such lies.

 

How to get out

to slavage us both

the coward is strong

his will wins out

the need for this woman

has long since gone

so why the pointless reprise?

"I love you, I need you", and other such lies.

 

She must know the truth

but will not confront

she holds on in hope rather than love

I withdraw from her touch

but her hurt is so raw

that I repeat once again

"I love you, I love you", and other such lies.

 

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