Pieces Lyrics
von Patricia Barber
There's a piece on the chair
A piece in the hall
A nice piece of me
Stuck to the wall
Divide and conquer
The jigsaw in you
Has left me asunder
All over the room
There's a piece by the clock
Clinging awkwardly to time
There's a piece at the piano
Clinging stubbornly to rhyme
There's a fun piece of me
In a crack inthe floor
An innocent piece
Who walked out the door
[Bridge]
Call me a doctor
Or a structural engineer
Draft me a past and a future
That consert to adhere
Give me a pill that makes cohesion
A pharmalogical thing
Bring me the tape and the twine
The blueprint design
To fit the scraps and the threads
To the feet and the legs
There's a piece that was pretty
For a moment or two
But my mouth and my lips
Are somehow askew
A piece of a hero is
Behind the TV
The piece with the glue
Is looking for pieces of me
There's a piece in Detroit
A piece in LA
New York is a critic
She's funny that way
There's a piece prone to panic
A big piece is blue
All the pieces agree
The best piece went with you
[Bridge]
In fragments and tatters, scattered
All over the road
Each piece has the other
But no pieces is a whole
Little maps in their pockets,
Reflectionsof possibility
The pieces pick themselves up
Dust themselves off
And start all over
Again
A piece in the hall
A nice piece of me
Stuck to the wall
Divide and conquer
The jigsaw in you
Has left me asunder
All over the room
There's a piece by the clock
Clinging awkwardly to time
There's a piece at the piano
Clinging stubbornly to rhyme
There's a fun piece of me
In a crack inthe floor
An innocent piece
Who walked out the door
[Bridge]
Call me a doctor
Or a structural engineer
Draft me a past and a future
That consert to adhere
Give me a pill that makes cohesion
A pharmalogical thing
Bring me the tape and the twine
The blueprint design
To fit the scraps and the threads
To the feet and the legs
There's a piece that was pretty
For a moment or two
But my mouth and my lips
Are somehow askew
A piece of a hero is
Behind the TV
The piece with the glue
Is looking for pieces of me
There's a piece in Detroit
A piece in LA
New York is a critic
She's funny that way
There's a piece prone to panic
A big piece is blue
All the pieces agree
The best piece went with you
[Bridge]
In fragments and tatters, scattered
All over the road
Each piece has the other
But no pieces is a whole
Little maps in their pockets,
Reflectionsof possibility
The pieces pick themselves up
Dust themselves off
And start all over
Again
Writer(s): Patricia Barber, Patricia L Barber
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