Lie to me

Lie to me, Lie to me
The truth is too much.
Didn't we learn
from Oedipus Rex
the dangers of questioning
the given perspective?
He shared his mothers bed
and was content.
What greater gift
can man receive?
But in his quest
for self destruction
he would relieve
his thirst for objectivity.
Better had he kept his eyes
and lived the lies
than like Tiresias
loose his perspective
when faced with the horrid
realization
that life is a choice
that cannot be made
without painful
self scrutiny.

So when you tell me about my cousin,
tell me he was a good boy.
Tell me how he went to church,
how he loved his mother.
Don't tell me how he died
when a dumb mistake
met Mexican knives
and left him dead,
his hands and his head
cut from his body,
cast aside.
So Lie to me, Like to me.
Don't tell me that he died
for powders and pills and potted plants.
Don't tell me he lived for a high.
Its better to live in a lie.
I can't handle the truth
that the boy in my youth
is a druggie
a junkie
a lost cause
a dredge of society
that by another mans morals
I must abhor.
Feed me the lie.
I want it.
I need it.
The truth of the world is frightening
and all too well reflects
my own fears
and insecurities.

So when I read the news
feed me political views.
I don't want the truth.
Its too much,
I can't handle it.
'Cause when you speak
I must react
and its easier to say
"Kill the Muslim"
than
"Kill the man"
Feed me the black and white
the left and the right
the facade of moral objectivity.
Lie to me, Lie to me
There is too much in truth
to make a stand
when the choice itself
is between comfort
and self scrutiny

So let me live in this lie
where its easy to hide
give me my eyes
and like Oedipus
Le me share my mothers bed.