The Fire Must Be Tended And Alas I Am Tired. Here Are The Light Feather Down Pillows On Which I Long To Relieve My Aching Brain. The Piles Around Me Grow In The Day And In The Night And Still I Write And I Am Not Right. If Someone Was Curious Somewhere For Something Mysterious And I Let Them Set Them Open And Flashing On Fire That Spark That Little Spark In The Dark That Must Be Held Can Weld Can Rebuild A Broken Heart.