Frank Turner. Broken Piano

As I walked out one morning fair,I found myself drawn thoughtlesslyBack to the place we used to live,And you still do, now without me.Around the back, away from the road,Behind the bins, beneath your window,I found the hulk, the rusting bulkOf a shattered old piano.Someone had torn out some of the keysWith cruel care, not thoughtlessly,In such a way that one could only playMinor melodies.So I