'Neath - Untruths

So, here we are again in this tired old space
Where we question just what will we do
Point our fingers and you throw conniptions
But now I'm not lost for umbrage with you

Take heed, anger beckons with the sweetest of voices
It stirs that inside which should never be released
but you, you do nothing to prevent it's eruption
No you are just another who will not be pleased

Lying through your teeth, you seek not to better yourself
And somehow that's not your fault too
Limitations exist with my patience
You're proving yourself as an unworthy shrew

Untruths, small untruths, the ignition of your tears
But truth you fail consistently to recognise
I suffer the echoes of your elapsed time
And still expectations are set and then rise

Death will come swiftly on the wings of my torment
And thanking the heavens for it's end I will cry