Let Lies Be Told

Open to interpretation.

Let the eels sing to us our bedtime tales.
Let my heels sink into the mounds of slimy snails.
Let thy reels lift my black heart to the swift and chilly gales.
Let me listen as he kneels before the man who's off his rails.
Let wheels of progress roll on top of many heads and tails.

We're Smelling flowers in a field of decaying corpses' crust,
And Hearing birds these hours whistling grim and dusty lust.
We're in a bower full of hay.
We care not what we have to say.
What's not a dark and tragic day?

Forth we walk and then we talk.
A grisly hawk begins to stalk.
A Shining buttress gleams so high
We're Whining bloodless in the sky.
I kid you not it's all a lie.