Shape of My Heart

You maybe think there's something wrong.
I'm not a man of too many faces; the mask I wear is one.
But those who speak know nothing and find out to their cost.
Like those who curse, they're locked in too many places,
And those who fear are lost.
Another the spades are the swords of a soldier; another the clubs are weapons of war.
And all their diamonds meant money for his art,
But that's not the shape of my heart.
That's not the shape of my heart.