My heart breaks, it really does

My heart breaks it really does
It breaks like a wave on your shore
My heart is made of something more than this blood
This flood, these ropes that tighten
These cello strings, these harp's chords
My heart breaks, it really does
My heart like a vice for a crocodile
Like a purse for crocodile tears
As an oyster's shell holds pearls

My heart rolls you like grit
It hurts to rub you against its walls
One day Inside will look pearlesque and shiny
With your memories smeared
By my paintbrush of lies
My heart breaks it really does

My heart is a painting
It is a gallery of faces
It is an audience
An auditorium of eyes
Who stare at me accusingly
Like at the last judgement
When God asks what men
Have done with their lives
My heart breaks, it really does

And in its catheral organ of tubes
In its chambers and atrium
You are there singing your beautiful blues
Your Cantata of loves Equilibrium