Everyone's running
|
me though, I'm crawling
|
picking up the pieces of your heart
|
I'm trying to put you back together
|
put you on my mantelpiece
|
so I could live with you in piece
|
in piece
|
|
If I found your hair
|
your golden hair
|
I would sow it with my fingers through the shirt I wear
|
and everyone will stare
|
|
If I found your eyes
|
I tell no lies
|
I would offer them like sunlight to the broken skies
|
and everyone will cry
|
|
And I will see you till my lips turn silver
|
And I will see you till the cities tremble like little girls
|
And I will see you till the earth's will is done
|
till it offers it's fruits to everyone
|
|
Everyone's running
|
me though, I'm crawling
|
picking up the pieces of your heart
|
I'm trying to put you back together
|
put you on my mantelpiece
|
so I could live with you in piece
|
in piece
|
|
-----------------
|
In Piece
|
| Mark Owen |
