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Fickle Heart
by
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 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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