Why are the most beautiful things
Always so fragile?
I couldn't hold the flower in my hands
Without breaking it

Well I picture something broken
With something beautiful
Growing out of it

Why is it a field full of hyacinths
Trampled by beast?
I couldn't walk through this field
Without crushing everything

Still I picture something broken
With something beautiful
Growing out of it

Why is it a world of wrecking *****
And you a heart of glass?
My love was always made of ghosts
And my heart made of stone

I was just a brute
Too caught up in my own pain
To see you were hurting too