When they speak (from journal entry 8-19-94)

i dont trust what theyre saying about me
they sing my songs and step to my beat
but behind my back what theyre saying about me i dont know
to my face they praise my name and bend to my wyze feet
but behind my back thats just no so
when the moon shines her glory and the nidnight mass are praying
and the honest adn true are sound asleep
i hear whispers
all heads are bowed and eyes are closed but the whispers call my name