Oh, a man who won’t have me has the last of my love.
And the bud, bloomed once, now a monument.
And the heart beats blood. Yeah, the heart beats blood
like a good heart should, like a good heart does.
Still some nights, it feels empty as a painted shell,
drained so slowly through a pinhole.
I hid it for the hunting, but I did it far too well.
Now no one can find it, not even myself.
Oh, a man who won’t have me has the last of my love.
And the bud, bloomed once, now a monument.
And the heart beats blood. Yeah, the heart beats blood
like a good heart should, like a good heart does.
Hey, you take the weight off broken legs,
sling up arms and hands,
but the heart keeps on working
even when it’s on the mend.
Resting on the edge.
Always headed for the floor.
But always steady, at the ready,
even if you don’t know what for.
Oh, a man who won’t have me has the last of my love.
The bud, bloomed once, now a monument.
And the heart beats blood. Yeah, the heart beats blood,
like a good heart should, like a good heart does.
Like a good heart should, like a good heart does.
Like a good heart should, like a good heart does.
©2015 Heather Aubrey Lloyd
Appears on: Live At the New Deal Cafe (and Heather’s solo album A Message In the Mess)
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