Hey, there’s a broken heart knocking, face pressed against your pane,

Maybe it got locked out of home in this desolate  winter’s night,

Hey, won’t you open the door, bring it in to haven from the rain,

and offer it a cup of tea and  moment by the fire, till it feels warm again?

 

Hey, there’s a broken heart calling-haven’t heard from it in a while-

I know you’ve got work early tomorrow morning, and some reading left to do,

and there’s a pain inside this heart that’s running deep and wild,

and truth is , there’s little left of it to give of itself to you- Reject Call?

It’s up to  you.

 

Hey, there’s a broken heart huddled there, on the corner of 68th and Main,

Been out there for a while, hands wrapped in rags, eyes crinkled against the snow-

Crossing the street takes you to the other side, as if you don’t have enough of your own pain,

And if you avert your eyes and grit your teeth behind chapped lips, no one’s gonna know,

It’s all been done before-

how can we fit inside our tiny homes, all the people with no damn place to go?

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