You Who Love The Truth - Don McLean

Black crows in the summer sky.

Wheat fields turned to gold

Workers in the blazing sun.

Forests in the cold

Farmers in a cabin room.

Portraits of your eyes

Look at me in painful gloom, they’ve seen so many lies

You who love the truth, you who love the truth

You who love the truth have seen, so many lies

Skeletons smoke cigarettes.

A blazing sun that never sets

A purple forest in the haze.

Hands that know of common ways

Some survive their shattered dreams, but you are lost in colour schemes

Falling down between the seams, you’ve seen so many lies

You who love the truth, you who love the truth

You who love the truth have seen, so many lies

I wonder how you’d feel today, if you knew the millions that they’d paid

For canvas glowing with your heat, shown in airconditioned suites

With glass and steel and carpet floors, stored in crypts as cold as yours

Portraits of your bleeding eyes, eyes that saw so many lies

You who love the truth, you who love the truth

You who love the truth have seen, so many lies

You who love the truth, you who love the truth, you who love the truth