And in contradictory style
The soldier and the steer attend
Around the mark of the five hundred all in charge of a friend.
"The Cretans always lie"
Claims the Cretan.
The Cretans always lie.
A kiss the gift from hell
Light, the poison pillow, dear...
And as we gag on it translation smacks of something like
"Cretans always lie"
Claims the Cretan;
"Of Cretan stock am I,
Am I Cretan?"
Why don't we hook this old short circuit to the value of Pi?
"Cretans always lie"
Claims the Cretan;
"Of Cretan stock am I,
(so) am I Cretan?"
And Zeno's arrow flies,
Through the ether.
Come on...
Let's see how the paradox flies.