| The piano is not firewood yet
|
| They try to remember but still they forget
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| That the heart beats in threes
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| Just like a waltz
|
| And nothing can stop you from dancing
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| Rise from your cold hospital bed
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| You’re not dying
|
| Everyone knows you’re going to live
|
| So you might as well start trying
|
| The piano is not firewood yet
|
| But the cold does get cold
|
| So it soon might be that
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| I’ll take it apart, call up my friends
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| And we’ll warm up our hands by the fire
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| Don’t look so shocked
|
| Don’t judge so harsh
|
| You don’t know
|
| You are only spying
|
| Everyone knows it’s going to hurt
|
| But at least we’ll get hurt trying
|
| The piano is not firewood yet
|
| But a heart can’t be helped
|
| And it gathers regret
|
| Someday you’ll wake up and feel a great pain
|
| And you’ll miss every toy you ever owned
|
| You’ll want to go back
|
| You’ll wish you were small
|
| Nothing can slow the crying
|
| You’ll take the clock off of your wall
|
| And you’ll wish it was lying
|
| Love what you have and you’ll have more love
|
| You’re not dying
|
| Everyone knows you’re going to love
|
| Though there’s still no cure for crying |