Deborah Conway It was clear It was bright It was a shinning star on a black, black night It was pure It was plain It was a weird, wild party and nobody came It was my blood It was your sweat It was a waterfall of tears where no one gets wet It isn't in the news Or any magazine It won't turn a profit Or make your toilet clean It's not something you can see Or something you can buy It's very nice to swallow When all you're feed are lies What is this stuff? This gourmet stuff This powerful, magical, illicit stuff It's the TRUTH Maybe if we told it to our children They could tell theirs