|'COLOUR ME OUT' From Visual Counterpoint|
Don’t believe a word that is said,
Unless it is written in the blood of the dead,
Turn over the page that seeks to blind
With living lies the moribund mind.
Where do I put my indelible mark?
When will the truth rise like the lark?
How do I touch the moment and see,
The wisdom that lives for the free.
No politician ever speaks from the heart,
Born on the dawn when night does not depart,
They live by a light only they can shed,
Don’t believe a word they ever said.