Borrowed Time
You can cut off my head
And put me to bed
When you willing to admit
That all I have spoken
Is fact's based on truth's
That you have used
To pass your sentence
As spreading truth
Made me a menace
For which I have to pay your penance
So kill away this mortal body
But save a noose on these gallows
As your poor soul is bound to follow
When truth be told
Your victory is borrowed
Copyright © Christopher Flaherty | Year Posted 2017
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