"Front"

To have a front is to be faking it--
though its' this we use, when we want to prove,
there is no love-- love isn't making it.

Though pain is dross (we must be shaking it),
though the fight isn't fun (nor does it soothe)
to have a front is to be faking it.

The world is a bank; to be breaking it,
we sit tight on all fronts, to make our moves;
there is no love-- love isn't making it.

Money is the king, we'll be raking it;
it is this we worship, and this we choose--
to have a front is to be faking it.

Knowing no doves, we'd rather be snaking it,
and our soul's in the fire; hot, it stews;
there is no love-- love isn't making it.

If love were a drug, we'd be taking it;
we want the pill that we're loathe to use--
to have a front is to be faking it.
There is no love-- love isn't making it.