A Hundred Pieces

[Intro]
One cup split on the kitchen tile
I count the pieces, lose the count

[Verse 1]
You ask me where I’m going tonight
I say “home,” then turn toward the door
One part of me wants your hand
One part can’t take this pull anymore

I keep your note inside my coat
The fold has worn a paper seam
I read the same four crooked words
Then choose a different one to mean

[Pre-Chorus]
Every piece has got a compass
Every needle turns away
I can hear them arguing softly
Over what I should obey

[Chorus]
My heart broke into a hundred pieces
Each one pulling on a different thread
One says stay here, one says leave me
One keeps every tender word you said
I’m held in every direction
I can’t make the pieces agree
If you ask which one is really me
They’re all still calling from inside of me

[Verse 2]
Your blue scarf hangs behind the door
The sleeve still carries cedar soap
I almost call you by your name
Then swallow half the sound of hope

The bus rolls past the corner store
Where we split oranges in the cold
I want the life we almost had
And want the right to let it go

[Pre-Chorus]
Every piece keeps its own weather
Every shard remembers rain
I am tired of making one voice
Pretend it can explain the pain

[Chorus]
My heart broke into a hundred pieces
Each one pulling on a different thread
One says stay here, one says leave me
One keeps every tender word you said
I’m held in every direction
I can’t make the pieces agree
If you ask which one is really me
They’re all still calling from inside of me

[Bridge]
I won’t glue them into silence
I won’t tell them not to ache
Let the room hear all their answers
Let the old shape finally break

Some want morning at the window
Some want one more hour with you
Some want nothing but a quiet table
And a place to set the truth

[Choir]
All of me
All at once

[Final Chorus]
My heart broke into a hundred pieces
Each one pulling, none erased
One says stay here, one says leave me
One still reaches for your face
I am more than one direction
More than what I couldn’t keep
I can carry every answer
And still choose the road beneath my feet

[Outro]
The cup is gone; the floor is clean
I keep the note, but let it be
Every piece still turns within me
And none of them gets all of me