Fickle Heart

Ira Wolf

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    My heart, my heart, my fickle heart
    Longs for sun and lays in the dark
    Aims for love and misses the mark
    My heart, my heart, my fickle heart

    My feet, my feet, my tired feet
    Have carried my fast and far in retreat
    But now I'm kicking myself to sleep
    With my feet, my feet, my tired feet

    My mind, my mind, my restless mind
    Is caught on the bridges I've left in flames behind
    Every step overthought and analyzed
    'Til I lose my mind

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    In the cold sweats underneath the sheets
    I was trembling with dreams I hate to dream
    You stayed awake, clutching my face, trying to save my teeth
    Now I grind them to dust

    My bones, my bones, my aching bones
    Are broken and bruised from your sticks and stones
    But your words put the knife in my soul
    Leaving just bones, aching bones

    And my fickle heart doesn't have a home
    To rest these bones, aching bones
    Now I'm just bones, bones

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