Sort of funny, for them to call it a breakup.
They make it sound like we were ice and the sea heaved below us so we shattered,
Which, actually, isn't far from the truth, but
I didn't know what kind of sea was below you—
Mine, which was rather open and only had my ice on it,
Felt different from yours
When the ice on the seas of ours
Met up for a brief minute
And then tore itself in half.
I mean, I didn't want to break up, but
I understand that you did, and that's OK,
But I mean, it seemed
That the sea below your ice was of a different kind.
Was it saltier? Or poisoned? Or had it been stuffed in a closet
(The entire ocean, can you imagine!) that had suddenly felt too small?
They make it sound like we were ice and the sea heaved below us so we shattered,
Which, actually, isn't far from the truth, but
I didn't know what kind of sea was below you—
Mine, which was rather open and only had my ice on it,
Felt different from yours
When the ice on the seas of ours
Met up for a brief minute
And then tore itself in half.
I mean, I didn't want to break up, but
I understand that you did, and that's OK,
But I mean, it seemed
That the sea below your ice was of a different kind.
Was it saltier? Or poisoned? Or had it been stuffed in a closet
(The entire ocean, can you imagine!) that had suddenly felt too small?
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