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Fickle Heart

de Ira Wolf

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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