It's broken
The first time I looked across a room
And saw you, the way you moved
And your eyes, and your smile
The things poets have to write about
I saw my future
Falling apart
An edge
Falling apart
An edge
A broken heart
When you touched my elbow
I was shocked to life
And I found I dove
In feather pieces
In feather pieces
Into the future until it became passed
A broken heart at first sight
Everything bypassed
Like a nine month wormhole
You devastate me
A memory like a book of poetry unread
How did I learn your smile?
How did I learn to quit?
When food that begins
How did that become me?
When food that begins
How did that become me?
How do you sit alone
In a crowded room
Unlit in despair?
Those lonely souls who have lingering
Lumbering days, space
Those lonely souls who have lingering
Lumbering days, space
What is love?
I always fall in love, with every beautiful
Thing and then another too, it's a flaw
I know to look for, that if there's love
There must be one more, converging
And coming through the stinging door.
Whenever there is stillness
Thoughts run back to you,
If I say I know how to move on
It was out of fear. I don't even
Know what it means. I've learned.
Love is sometimes a stone mountain,
It may be a thousand different things
At a thousand different times,
But someday you may notice, every
Little once in awhile you may notice,
Beneath that season's grass or the collapsing
Tourist, it's a stone mountain.
