The Whispers Behind Their Back.
I sit in the background, quiet and unknown
I listen to what they say, loud and harsh toned
Who says things like that, mean and cruel
They speak of their friends, the nice guy, the fool
As I watch their lips, never stopping, never ceasing
Quiet words burst forth, their true thoughts releasing
I call them my friends, but is that real?
Cold words leave warm mouths, is this how they really feel?
I lean back and think, how foolish am I
My twofaced counterparts, maybe OUR friendship is a lie.
