Its there, in her hand,
just there, singing in her embrace.
She holds it as casually as if it were a newspaper.
In her perfect finger she holds my heart,
and I love her.
It's there, in her hand,
shaking in fear,
afraid and dying,
still she holds it casually.
It's there, she owns it now,
its no longer mine and she knows it.
She smiles and it hurts,
hurts my heart,
hurts my soul.
And still its there, in her hand,
shaking in fear,
afraid and dying.
She tells me she loves me,
she always has,
in her hand, it jumps, it dances,
its alive, there in her hand.
She betrayed me,
holding my heart in her hand,
squeezing its joy, its hope,
killing its beat with her lie.
She dropped it,
crushed it under her heel,
she broke it and killed it.
And still it keeps on loving her.
