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 ramblings and things

Lying With Style

They call each the Father of his
Regiment and they oversee all.
Sometimes it's in their hands
Whether you survive or fall.
They come in all shapes and sizes,
The long and the short and the tall
But the same sort of aura
Seems to hang over one and all.

They all have a certain vocabulary
They must learn at RSM school.
Sometimes with an original excuse
They'll condone breaking of the rule.
I looked over his right shoulder
So as not to look him in the eyes
But I could see his mouth twitch
As I spun my elaborate set of lies.

Keep on digging lad he said
It's an ever deeper deep hole.
I'd be weeping with sorrow if
I only had a heart and soul.
I've got your number and name
And today is a rather busy day,
Which seems to be in your favour
So about turn and on your way.

Imagine you're a cat and
Four of you lives have just gone.
I'll be watching you from now
So be careful how you carry on.
I swear I heard him laughing
As I quietly closed his door
And I made a resolution never
To rely on that excuse any more,

Sometimes luck is on your side
And you never really know why
But I think it doesn't hurt to have
Ability to spin an audacious lie.
They come in all shapes and sizes
But don't ever treat them as fools
On their way to their position
They've probably broken every rule.

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