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You can, I don't know, carve maybe?
Carve the truth from the world?
I think that's it, because it ain't easy
So many conflicting 'truths' so much confusion
And some of it isn't accidental
They want you to believe the lie

But you can still take up your chisel
Smash it into the information, all the words
Packed together into bite-sized pieces
Pieces crammed together so tightly that you can feel
The gravity sucking you in, trying to drag you under

Bite-sized pieces, of different sizes
Different bites for, or from, different mouths that join
together in clumps, creating undetectable faults, fallacies
And your hammer drives the chisel and splits the faults
nuggets falling to the floor. That's the easy part, next comes
The tasting, taking the pieces and placing them in your mouth

Like a baby exploring the world, your tongue must know,
must feel each bite, the shape of it, the taste of it
How it feels and what it's like when you spit it out
it's hard because most of the pieces will taste
like shit, or bitter, sour thoughts, dark molasses

And even when they taste so sweet, when your tongue loves
them, loves the way they make you feel, and how they sound
when you whisper them, or shout them out loud
They can still be lies and bitter to another's heart
to their ears or to their mouth, for it's well known and oft
repeated that one mans meat is another man's poison.