You can repeat it as often as you like, the story won't ring true. You've been inventing a co*ktail of confections no-one believes but you. Contradictory fictions together form a track: once the words have been spoken they're out and you can't take them back. Opinions you've ventured adrift upon the wind, no council is kept your own, As quiet as you whisper your thoughts can't be preserved for one person's ears alone. There's always an eavesdropping multitude in on your words. You always were overheard. Nothing's secret now, nothing's safe and sound, nothing's private. You didn't mean it to come out as it did
but the narrative still escaped. Benign indiscretions and confidences spilled, they've got them all down on tape and sooner or later they'll hold you to account. I hear you've been spouting all kinds of poppyco*k to any prepared to hear. Better be careful, don't speak so loud or so clear. Remember whatever you say can't be unsaid, not once it's tripped off the tongue. A flippant aside might in later light be taken as proof of a smoking gun. And so here's a maxim for life you'd do well to observe - choose your words as if you were constantly overheard.