Truth hides under fallen rocks and stones
at the end of a disconnected phone
truth hides down an unmarked street
buried deep beneath your feet
truth hides in people written out of history
black leaders and inventors whose names
remain a mystery
great women recorded on ripped out pages
obliterated wisdom, covered up faces
Truth is lost in the mists of empty vision,
and found in the notebooks of those
wrongfully imprisoned,
and in the evidence that was never brought to trial,
but not in the void behind the newsreaders' smile.
truth hides whenever we lose our focus
slips out the back, quickly replaced by the bogus,
fleeing soundbites disguised as facts
that reappear in the small print on every contract
truth hides on the other side of a two-way mirror
in countless documents sent straight to the shredder
that might finally give us the whole of the picture
but until the day we decide to dig a little deeper
we know that truth will hide
under fallen rocks and stones
at the end of a disconnected phone
down an unmarked street
and buried deep beneath your feet
Chorus
Truth it a hide under rocks and stones
at the end of your line
down an unmarked street
truth it a hide under rocks and stones
at the end of your line...

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