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Literature Text
i gave my heart to a crocodile
but
he used it as a toothpick
so
i took it back
and
gave it to Charlie Chaplin
but
he kept playing the dictator
so
i took it back
and
gave it to Houdini
but
he'd make it disappear every morn
so
i took it back
and
gave it to the Beatles
but
they threw it to their lunatic fans
so
i took it back
and
gave it to my chest
but
it was dark and bloody in there
so
i took it back
and
gave it to You,
my Unloneliness,
to stuff it next to yours -
i heard from your veins
there's room enough for Two
in your rib cage.
but
he used it as a toothpick
so
i took it back
and
gave it to Charlie Chaplin
but
he kept playing the dictator
so
i took it back
and
gave it to Houdini
but
he'd make it disappear every morn
so
i took it back
and
gave it to the Beatles
but
they threw it to their lunatic fans
so
i took it back
and
gave it to my chest
but
it was dark and bloody in there
so
i took it back
and
gave it to You,
my Unloneliness,
to stuff it next to yours -
i heard from your veins
there's room enough for Two
in your rib cage.
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Comments105
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That's the trouble ,we can't give our hearts away.Not for very long.The writer recognizes this .It's a fantasy of ours and a lamentation because it aches so much ,so very often.