Homo Homini Vulpes

I have got a secret, and it twines around me. It tastes bitter. It tastes sweet.

I have got a secret, and it twines around you. It sounds chipper. It sounds neat.

And so I try to be silent. And so I try to disguise.

Words. Words. Words. On my tongue. And in my throat.

Words. Words. Words. Must not be disclosed. Must not be told.

I am composing a song, and I put it in a minor key. It is about me.

I am composing a song, and I put it in a major key. It is about you.

And so I try to be silent. And so I try to disguise.

Tones. Tones. Tones. On my tongue. And in my throat.

Tones. Tones. Tones. Must not be struck. Must not be intoned.

I am drawing a picture, and I paint it in green. It is about me.

I am drawing a picture, and I paint it in blue. It is about you.

And so I try to be silent. And so I try to disguise.

Shades. Shades. Shades. On my tongue. And in my throat.

Shades. Shades. Shades. Must not be painted. Must not be drawn.

I carry a weapon, and it is pointed at me. On the trigger, your finger.

I carry a weapon, and it is pointed at you. On the trigger, my finger.

And so I try to be silent. And so I try to disguise.

Bullets. Bullets. Bullets. On my tongue. And in my throat.

Bullets. Bullets. Bullets. Must not be loosed. Must not be released.

"The cayote is a living, breathing allegory of Want. He is always hungry." ~ Mark Twain