Manner And Means

I call for angels to breathe holy on this rust
I call the snakes to come out slowly from the brush
I need a massive overhaul
A revival to fall, to keep it burning

The heart is a costly thing to sell in the prime of the years
And my heart is thinly veiled in the usual fears
The heart is the dream, and the kiss
That there could be more than this, to keep it burning


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