Harlow

Face down any claim, your stars won’t refuse, no more outrageous fame, you who wonder why, worldly canons of virtue, always bring a sigh, this is no mug’s game, where TV blares fake news, chase me through my days, decipher the constant lie, let them all sing blues, each to their own disguise, hardships on the way, nothing’s here to rue, catch them on the make, only fools rely, beyond the goodly few, look imposters in the eye, always meet their gaze, which lottery they use, afraid of talking plain, just give them truth.