| We were always ducking and weaving
 | 
| Our fists raised high and our heads bowed down
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| You let your guard drop once I swung
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| Missed, and then you knocked me out
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| I woke up in another country
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| And I pulled my head out of the ground
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| I got a postcard from my family doctor
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| It read «Your test results are in the clouds
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| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound»
 | 
| And now I’m working in the lemon orchard
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| I pick the lemons to make lemonade
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| You drink the juice but you don’t taste the fruit
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| You get the warmth without the burning pain
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| Well I know I’m on a sinking ship
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| From the mast I watch the whole fleet drown
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| A&R going overboard
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| And say «Call me when you’re back in town
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound»
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| It’s the wick burning out on a candle
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| A lethal dose piercing your vein
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| The last spin of a propeller
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| As the engine fails on a plane
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| All six strings snapping at once
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| The floods first drop of rain
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| A cheap backstabbing in an alleyway
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| Or a bullet in the president’s brain
 | 
| The sound remains the same
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound
 | 
| When a heart breaks it makes a beautiful sound |