I'm British, so neither sentimental nor spiritual.
What am I meant to do when I find a heart amongst a riverbed of cracked mud? I never had much time for people who see the faces of saints in their morning toast, but. Perhaps it's trying to tell me something.
You can find love anywhere.
Don't let your passion dry up.
Hold tight when things fall apart.
Or maybe it's meant for someone else, and I just got in the way.