The truth was not their friend, and so they lied
And falsehood was the mantra in their ears
A symphony, until the day they died

The truth was never something they had tried
Their foolish days; an avalanche of years
A brotherhood: the scornful and the snide

Anxiety devoured them from inside
They worshipped pseudo-science of their peers
Their virtue was the pleasure they derived

In loneliness, they made a friend of pride
The biggest lies received the loudest cheers
Emotions conquered facts, which they denied

As dogma spread across the great divide
Their verbal dagger-music of the spears
How thinly veiled, the threats they then implied

Immortal in the wisdom they contrived
Their graves would never know the kiss of tears
A simple dirge to mark the day they died

As history adjudicates your side
The precious time we coddled all the fears
Was stolen in the name we now deride