What You Said

It isn't what you said it was, is it?
It isn't harmless, and what's in your head
(A sort of homeless, shifting, nameless dread)
Sounds like four horses champing at the bit
(The ones upon which those four horsemen sit),
And you look like you just rolled out of bed
Onto the floor, repeating what you said
With growing confidence, though not much wit.

So what was it you said, and what's the truth,
And what's the difference fixed between the two?
Or is the difference fixed at all? Are you,
Insanely hoping to regain your youth,
Dispensing holy writ and then, uncouth
And unashamed, debunking? Are we through?