If i lied, with my mouth and my tongue and my mind and my words, if i lied with my heart and my hopes and my dreams, who then could blame you, for your misgivings? And who could be blameless, in the end? If i lied, with my hands and my breasts and my throat, if i kept the truth in a grimy cell, encased in fear, entombed in doubt, if i lied, who could blame you for leaving? And who has abandoned who?