In the gallery of echoes, your words paint lies,
With a steady stroke in monotonous skies.
Every answer’s silent, sharp and bare,
Like a canvas where the truth doesn’t dare.
Brushstrokes of drama, you’re putting on a show,
But honesty’s a ghost in the life you know.
Faded hues, cold to the bone,
A portrait of stories, but none of your own.
But Shellie—A Shell Friend for You and Me,
You bury your secrets deep in the sea.
With that ruby you wear, like fire in the night,
Shining through the lies, a flicker of light.
The truth leaks out, but it’s hiding fast,
Under the ocean’s sway, where monotony lasts.
Brushstrokes fade in your comfortable shell,
Where half-truths linger and stories dwell.
Shellie—A Shell Friend for You and Me,
With that ruby you wear, like fire in the night,
Shining through the lies, a flicker of light.
Yeah, Shellie, we’ll ride this monotony,
Till we find our sea.