| All the little pieces come apart
|
| All the little pieces of your heart
|
| I look at all the children
|
| whose hearts are strong
|
| running down the streets like nothings wrong
|
| I look at all the frineds I knew
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| Now some have changed
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| Some I know will always be the same
|
| Nobody knows what happens when the moon blew now
|
| Nobody knows, Nobody knows
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| That all the little pieces come apart
|
| All the little pieces of your heart
|
| All the little pieces come apart
|
| All the little pieces of your heart
|
| If you happen to look away from the people
|
| and you feel the prick from pins and the needles
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| all which have been stuck into your arms
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| and all of your cries have been false alarms
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| and you can’t pick up the pieces
|
| no, you can’t pick up the pieces
|
| awwwwww…
|
| I look at all the children whose hearts are strong
|
| Running down the streets like nothings wrong
|
| I look at all the friends I’ve known
|
| Some have changed
|
| Some will always stay same
|
| Nobody know that all the little pieces
|
| all the little pieces
|
| all the little pieces come apart
|
| all the little pieces of your heart
|
| all the little pieces
|
| all the little pieces
|
| all the little pieces come apart
|
| all the little pieces of your heart |