The Nation of the Glorious Turnip

make the significant ones seem less damaging.

If a person lies about everything, what is the value of truth to him?
Is it the truth, or is it just another lie?
Why can a person just lie down and relax?
Why can't a person just walk out and be alive?
Why is there always that coffin surrounding him?
That cloud of dust and debris choking him,
Silencing him, keeping him gasping for breath
out there, where the people tread

Questions, questions, who has the answers?