Why did GOD give me this heart?
Why did he curse me with so much heart.
How could he curse me with this painful art
To love, I love
I give, I give
You take, you take,
I’m empty, I break.
This heart pumps
This heart throbs
This heart thrives
With you inside
And this heart dies
With you inside
It gladly hosts
Your parasite
You bleed me dry,
You bleed me dry.

My heart is no Indian giver.
What I lost: there’s no refill
But I know it will be replaced
Reshaped and fulfilled.
This hole no longer fits your shape
Forever empty it won’t remain



But I know my heart well
And I know its compassion
I know its forgiveness
And its memory of passion
I know its loyalty
Its sincerity and truth.
And what my heart has made
You can’t undo.
You can spit on it, step on it, reject it, curse it, ignore it, regret it,
Forget it.
Isn’t that enough?
Just forget it.
I’m trying to.
But my heart….it never will.

I could never be your friend.
I could never give you my heart again
But if you were dying, I’d give you my heart like Ben
There goes my heart stepping in…

And they say “You got too much heart!”
Yet I feel I have none left for myself
I give and I give.
They take and they take.
And we break.
With this anger inside I die.

When will someone make me feel alive?
With this pain inside I see a flat line.
How could you take back what was mine?
I’ll never get back what was mine.
But it’s not my time to die.
It’s not my time to die.