I met her in a church on a Sunday evening
not late on Saturday night.
She sang Ave Maria a little flat and out of tune
but that's what drew me to her so that's alright.
As she placed a nickel in the basket
that I held before her
I asked her to be my wife.
There's one cardboard heart
for every time you said I love you,
a painted star for every secret that we shared,
the dried lima beans and small plastic birds
because you cared.
I hear their talk and I watch them swap
their old black and whites.
Bitter and beaten they talk of life's cheatin'
like old boxers comparing scars.
All I remember is a smile at the top of
every working morning
and a shoulder always willing and able
and all those nights that we'd spend just sitting
and talking around our kitchen table.
And there's one cardboard heart
for every time you said I love you,
a painted star for every secret that we shared,
the dried lima beans and small plastic birds
because you cared.
Five rooms made stronger
by the breaking and the healing
of the two hearts they protected within.
And now one heart left aching,
pasting and painting
these walls with memories of all that has been.
And there's one cardboard heart
for every time you said I love you,
A painted star for every secret that we shared,
the dried lima bean and small plastic birds
because you cared.
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