Build a house of cards,
And put me in the middle.
Take away my heart,
But keep a crying fiddle.
Hear the wisps of music,
and crystallize the tears.
Age the stable house
to build upon my fears.
Here sobs the violin--
a coarse, sweet sound--
remains of what there was,
and what is to be found.
A single gust of wind
collapsed the house of cards.
Away went all my fears
no longer my regards.
My heart stood vaguely shattered
all upon the ground.
You broke it into pieces,
and scattered it around.
The violin that cried
still sobs among us all,
for gallant songs of heartbreak
are written in our fall.
