Your sleeveless heart It starts its fire for the night Kindles its conviction with some lines From books you’ve barely put a crease in You’re in the dark And all lit up on your father’s gin You nihilist, you feel no consequence Of needing nothing to believe in

Born again… again You got a soul to sell You’re so certain when It comes from someone else Yes, and you’ll defend Every single part Screaming like you mean it From your sleeveless heart

You sleep past noon And wake with smoke still in your head The embers cool Those revelations left you cold again You’re so desperate to believe in yourself or anything—anything at all But now they sound so hollow like in an empty cathedral hall The echoes of your own voice screaming

Born again… again Got no soul to sell When your sermon ends You’re orphaned to yourself Nothing to defend Nothing to impart Nothing but the heat Of a sleeveless heart