The Truth, How Cute

She placed that fiddle on top of her colorful fichu, -n- played me a gorgeous tribute, then put it down to play the flute, how cute, free to be pure is her attribute, her eyes are mysterious like when the stars shoot, -n- a little scary like when an owl hoots, I call her peaches for her vulva stays juicy,-n- taste like a delightful fruit, what appears to be is just an appearance, for the soul sees different, for the eyes can be fooled -n- become incoherent, while thy heart pumps spiritualism, making love to its intuition, giving birth to its wisdom, now every time I blink, I see a clearer, more vivid vision, for the truth needs no permission, for lies alter thy tongue’s decisions -n- thy brains intellectual rhythm, this world is life’s evil prison, an appearance of controlled vision, so I listen as she places that fiddle on top of her colorful fichu, -n- played me a gorgeous tribute, then put it down to play the flute, yes how cute, free to be pure is her attribute, free from the lies, so she plays me this gorgeous tribute, free from the lies, for I introduce her to the truth, how cute.