That everything I tell you is a lie.
Imagine nothing that I've said, that I
Have whispered in the dark of night, to be
At all the truth. Declare the fallacy
Of all confessions I have made. Decry
The falsity of man, in me, and sigh
That nothing good is true. Please don't ask why.
I'd hate to lie again. Just let it go;
Believe this much of me, and think me so,
So we can free ourselves of what I've said.
It's better thus, and better you don't know
The reasons. I won't jerk you to and fro:
Pretend, and let the past become the dead.
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