When It's 1789

Lies don't hurt after too long spoken
with hungry eyes and empty bellies.
Nevermind the crying nights
left alone for lies to rot
in stagnant pools of truth
Forget to keep want apart
revolutionaries jailed
hope to come against;
the falsities spilling
lips like madness.
Can't stop what's always been,
revolution to the guillotine.
Mumbles through veins like desolate streets
scared to speak the dirty words
that realized on the crying nights.
tell what has been
swallowed in bloody tumble
of never telling truthful loving
thought was nothing but moonlit whispers,
What's always been.
Revolution to the guillotine
lips like madness fly,
oh those dying nights.