The heart is a lonely thing to lose in the dead of nightThe heart is a sad thing to lose in the throws of a fightThe heart is the match to the fireAnd the embers of desire, to keep it burning I am a shell of the manner and the meansMine is a story of nothing as it seemsBut when we have come this farAnd still don't know who we are, does it keep burning? When it's over, and you see it with your eyesWould you rather have the truth or a lie? I call for angels to breathe holy on this rustI call the snakes to come and slowly from the brushI need a massive overhaulA revival to fall, to keep it burning The heart is a costly thing to sell in the prime of the yearsAnd my heart is thinly veiled in the usual fearsThe heart is the dream, and the kissThat there could be more than this, to keep it burning.
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