A secret sits on the tip of my tongue, 
Oh how it begs to be shared with everyone, 
With someone, with anyone. 
But like all good fables I’m committed, 
And like all committees I’m torn, 
I’ve worn this smile for too long, 
Singing solemn songs since I was young. 

The stones here are alive, 
They talk among themselves, 
But I can’t confide, 
I deal in rumours and lies. 

Feels like a forest fire flaming through my head, 
The burden of the untruth and the undead, 
An acacia tree shelters me, 
Where I lie wide awake in a half sleep, 
My dark shadow eclipsed by its own shade, 
I walk to town head down before returning to where I laid, 
Time disappears but the secret remains. 

The stones here are alive, 
They talk among themselves, 
But I can’t confide, 
I deal in rumours and lies. 

You are the echoes of a modern miracle, 
While I sit lazily on this shelf, 
A shelf I put up myself, 
Rumours and lies make for blurred lines, 
I’ve heard the second coming is coming to an end, 
The secret to salvation lies around the bend, 
Fight your enemies and find your friends. 

The stones here are alive, 
They talk among themselves, 
But I can’t confide, 
I deal in rumours and lies.