Compulsive Liar

I've got one fatal flaw:

I'm a compulsive liar

If I don't love you

I will tell you anything

And even if I love you

I'll always be conniving

I'll always be negotiating with the truth

And I can trace the habit

To when I was eleven

And I thought boys were pretty

And I couldn't tell no one

It opens at a young age:

That all-protective closet

Just lock the door

And settle in among the raincoats

The longer you stay in there

The more you'll get distorted

The more contorted all your lies will have to be

Don't wait a moment longer:

Stand up and turn the doorknob

And I'll tell you my secret

If you will tell me yours