Wednesday, April 10, 2013


Isn't it funny, how the things that I think,
  feel like they're written in permanent ink.

But a lie is a lie, is a lie, is a lie,
  and the truth is unbounded like the wide open sky.

The past, it is gone and the future's unknown.
  I'll switch to a pencil and stop chiseling stone.

-Brian Sweeny

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