Rogue Runner

Would you like my mask or would you like my mirror Cries the man in the shadowing hood You can look at yourself or you can look at each other Or you can look at the face, the face of your god The poets of drumming keep heartbeats suspended Stories are woven and fortunes are told When truth is measured by the weight of your gold In the firelight, the cobra is casting the flame a winsome smile From parchments of paper, the smoke swirls up and then it dies. Says the shadowing voice... lies, lies lies.