When does the sun rise? The night hides the end of the long walk home. We crawl
on our chests, and only just. Forgetting that we have feet. We should use our
hearts like we use our hands. Now, take hold. A long time ago I made a claim,
and that claim made me whole. But, I'm half of a whole of who I should be. It's
about time I drew a line in the sand. So, bring me my heart. Make a man out of
me. The Son has risen. The Son has risen already. Let the heart he's created
pump blood to the legs that walk this out.
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