Clean the lair

It's time to quell the flames 
of the broken heart
it's time to harvest
to grow the art

From the gaslit flames
then turned to smoke 
curling into patterns 
around all the spokes
of an old bicycle wheel
turning over on the game
'cause we don't want the wheel to rust
under the pouring autumn rain

Take it all back you will
for you must clean the air
to feel the fresh autumn chill
to suck the poison from the lair ..

Yes! 

Turn it inside out
and then you'll know the way
play the flute
tread on now
and abolish the nay say..
Play through the pain
Let the rain clean the way

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