It’s the same pitch
But at a different pitch
Made shrill with the spill
Of desperation,
A card-shark’s bark
When he’s eased
The last ace from his sleeves,
And is forced to bluff
Or seek an honest living,
You can only sell a bad lemon
So many times before
The lemonade turns
Too sour for anyone to sip,
It’s not what you sell
What you must sell yourself
But how dinged or dented
The fenders are, or how
Thick you lay on the polish,
You can’t disguise rust stain
Tears for real tears,
Or a bad paint job for trust,
And like virginity
You can’t get trust back
Once it’s gone,
Regardless of how many
Times you repaint the package,
Leaving only those who love you enough
To buy it all sight unseen,
Knowing what they’re going to get
In the first place.
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