the wrongful art

the secret is one that's well-known of old
desire to shape the world into a dream
such hearts too soon become both hard and cold

all youth mistake the brash for the true bold
each rotting bubble for an honest gleam
the secret is one that's well-known of old

what you condemn the foolish have extolled
confusing anger with deepest esteem
such hearts too soon become both hard and cold

they take the frozen for the self-controlled
that decent interval seems too extreme
the secret is one that's well-known of old

no sound brick's left behind the vicious mould
but you declare the world is as you deem
such hearts too soon become both hard and cold

ill-painted tin you tell us is bright gold
not knowing we've grown weary of the meme
the secret is one that's well-known of old
such hearts too soon become both hard and cold