sometimes i think it's a bit of a mystery
why i prefer to sleep on the floor than to sleep on my bed
and then i think of all i went through while i sat on that bed
alone
on the nights when i had no one
and days when my sheets still smelled like you
and i realize
that it's really no mystery at all

two fragile hearts made up of glass
everyone could see right through them both
only they themselves couldn't see the reality

both fell for each other
and whatever falls
will end up breaking

now those two once-glass hearts
shattered into a million emotional pieces

now those two once-glass hearts
will never find their missing parts

now those two once-glass hearts
have turned into nothing
but back into crushed sand