Ballad of a Lying Man

Well listen up here mister, this is a tale ’bout how
The clouds got to be heavy
And the crowd as mad as now
When I was a young boy, a man fled with a bagful of lies
The crowd was busy drawing rainbows
Whilst children were learning to cry
The man made off to the market of sin, “What can I get for this, Sire?”
“A bagful of lies is twelve clouds of rain,
Or a forest full of fire”
 
He placed the rain into his bag to empty wicked from the skies
He began to brew dark clouds above
Whilst devising his loving disguise
Well the man couldn’t hold his guilt no more so visited one in the booth
‘Cos a laden feeling’s a real chore
But it’s never as heavy as truth
The man now felt as normal, no one but I knew a thing
The crowd were fetching currencies
Whilst children played Luther King
 
As I hid from the coming rain, there lied his bag beneath my chair
The man had visited my home before
And now the crowd knew where
For the orders had been given, sent down from booth man’s boss
“There’s a boy hiding in that shelter
And he has defied the teachings of the cross”
“Take him in for questioning”, the crowd’s righteousness spoke
“He knew that rain was coming
And the damp pouch he holds bespoke”
 
The clouds were now black above as rain began to pour
Only a trickle on the executioner’s face
As my head dropped to the floor
The crowd they roared with delight, rapturing away their rain
The children had begun to bite themselves
Whilst the man stood straight and sane
So I’ll let you go now mister, you now know the tale ’bout how
The clouds got to be heavy
And the crowd as mad as now