that ryhme about sticks and

that ryhme about sticks and stones

as if broken bones

hurt more than the names we got called

and we got called them all

so we grew up believing no one

would ever fall in love with us

that we'd be lonely forever

that we'd never meet someone

to make us feel like the sun

was something they built for us

in their tool shed

so broken heart strings bled the blues

as we tried to empty ourselves

so we would feel nothing

don't tell me that hurts less than a

broken bone