The branches swaying briskly under the sun’s gleaming pyre

Each leaf in place as they cast down like goldfish in a waterfall

Curtain of green coating every fibre they can a perfect hiding place

The tree itself fading white just like the secrets below it’s gnarled root

I great looms shading away every from the peering nosy eyes of the sun

Never to know as the ground is just freshly watered dewdropped and sombre

But I’ve seen what you’ve done you thought you could hide since your small

I lay here in the trees knotted roots listening where you normally spin your laisse

Where your hands go I can’t stand I try to call out but I’m only seen as mute

With my endless clicks to try and alarm them lead them away like a herdsman

Just to be heartbroken by your sheepish tongue it disgusts me in ire

And yet you keep dragging them back to the sycamores leaves so tall

How many names are you going to carve into its back till you run out of space

Each one you wander and then act surprised when they wilt and shoot

Playing gambles with your life every time when will you be done

You peace around as if your wanting to be caught like a huntsman and his tigre

You exhaust me as I hear every candy apple line of yours I wish I could put up a wall

And just stay underground avoiding you avoiding seeing your perfect porcelain face

It’s as if your practice it in front of the mirror with a voice as sweet as starfruit

Glowing like a lamp with a brightened smile looking like you’ve always won

And I know it’s not my place but I just can’t stand your lying chirping choir

Such underhanded dirty tactics where they aren’t even needed at all

You make my body writhe and twist in disgust under the greenery and ferralsol

Slowly killing the tree you use to hide your secrets like whispering threats in a flute

Drain my sycamore of life as you care your names and leave me fallen

As you sink your teeth into another one like and acting like it’s not vulgar

Twenty lovers is just too much your starting to look like an overstuffed carnival

We both know all you have in your future is heartbreaks and arsenic lace

Even when your almost caught you barely change just few twitches transmute

You can’t be trusted around anyone you are hopefully to never bare a son

Crying yellow tears claiming that your the victim while holding the damn lighter

With charred hands and a scarred face with a heart as black as nightfall

I don’t see the interest I would never be able too understand your grace

To look like a piece of processed sliced ham gone old and covered in soot

And still a lair with a broken ship of lies and crocodile tears you cun