The shallow man he stands side on,
he disappears and then he's gone.
His false facade and gentle lies,
come to me as no surprise.
His thin veneer is so see through,
his awkward smile is one I knew.
He thinks the web he spins does shine
and all the time we know he's lying.
With painted spots and silver stripes
he tries to dazzle with delight.
But comes the morn' and golden sun,
his lies, his tales,
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