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