There's none to call the wind a liar
Save those whose limbs can flow as fast
Can creep up on unwatchful truth
And pluck her sleeves, distract her eyes
And leave in place the fitting image
Burnished bright with the rub of easy belief
The deafest ears hear falsehood's bell
A-tolling in the Belfry
The loudest tongue is his
Whose ear is untuned to what's likely
And thus the knowing spark
Is fanned into the mindless flame
Denouncing all across its path
It blots all trace of blame
Only the blind man touches a hand
And feels a heart afire
Only the blind man sees so well
He can call the wind a liar, liar, liar, liar
Behold the boomerang
Returns riding before the wind
History written afresh
As the beginning becomes the end, end, end, end
Only the blind man touches a hand
And feels the heart afire
Only the blind man sees so well
He can call the wind a liar, liar, liar, liar
Behold the boomerang
Returns riding before the wind
History written afresh
As the beginning becomes the
Beginning becomes the end