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