A Tin Filled with Tacks

How can you mend
A heart
When nothing's latching on
The nurse
Said give it a week or two
It'll start
Just like a broken bone
But it sounds
Like a tin filled with tacks
Or nails
Or coins

Nothing to talk about
No shrink can save you now
Don't heed your diagnosis
Cause it's not just your organs that need healing
Though they could use it too
This is on you

These aren't new reasons
These aren't new feelings
I'm tripping up
I'm falling down
These aren't new reasons
These aren't new feelings
I'm just waiting for a man to come and take my hand
These aren't new reasons
These aren't new feelings
I'm just waiting for a man to come and take my hand
And take my hand

I thought it'd help with the noise
The antibiotics
But of course nothing does work
Like it should
It's still a bit odd and tense
At family dinners
When I pull out my chair
And my tin's contents sift around
Dad averts his eyes
I spoiled his appetite
He said that
No child of mine
Should wind up afflicted
He said there's

Nothing to cry about
No shrink could save you now
Don't need your diagnosis
Cause it's not just your organs that need healing
Though they could use it too
This is on you

These aren't new reasons
These aren't new feelings
I'm tripping up
I'm falling down
These aren't new reasons
These aren't new feelings
I'm just waiting for a man to come and take my hand
These aren't new reasons
These aren't new feelings
I'm just waiting for a man to come and take my hand
Your consternation
It's no surprise
All but primeval
Romanticized
Antediluvian
And outdated
Antiquated
And pathetic
These aren't new reasons
These aren't new feelings
These aren't new reasons
These aren't new feelings



Credits
Writer(s): Colin Weaver
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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