Correction Paroles Corridor Of Chameleons par In-quest

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Paroles

We're the carriers of a new anomaly; Fold, unfold.
Bend, shift color.
Always turning our backs to the wind. Deaf to the inner
voices screaming.
Purpose, profit, act only to gain. Blistered tounges
from licking greedward.
Taste the enemy. Throw up their means. Swallow the bits
that fit your needs.

Keep your eyes searching in all directions, scanning
for opportunities
Off you go. Begin your climb. Aim for the topmost twig
of lies.

Put on a shape to pass undisturbed. Pick a color to
blend with surroundings.
Choose a voice suiting, appropriate for the never
benignant purpose.
Spin your eyes to read the court. Smoothen your path
before the start
Even out, fill the holes with the toxic clay of your
rotting heart.

A contagious neuro-ego-disease. A virus sticking to
liars.
We're the self-centered fuel to boost the new strain of
fire.
Adapting, shifting, lacking opinion. Our numbers
exceeding the billions.
Everly walking among ourselves down the corridor of
chameleons.

Continue through the skein of boughs, navigate to keep
you straight on track.
Make the right ramification-turns. Conceit will be your
allied guide.
Climb the hierarchy ladders invisibly, veiled by the
canvas of putrid dreams.
Every obstacle surmountable to the clouded vision
you've conceived.

Scan the wall of truth for cracks. Your prey: the
secrets hiding therein.
Feed upon its nourishing intestines to bring you forth
in the "game"
With every single step taken on the road of games
called success,
There's a fee for every lie. The currency: Your
dissolving integrity.
Will you make it to the top of the tree? Is the fortune
there to be found?
Chameleons are a short-lived breed. Maybe fate will
find you dead on the ground.

(Fate will tell.....)

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