The beautiful doll, the broken doll, not the one I lost.
The perfect doll, the shattered doll, not the one I had.
Broken, broken, from deep inside it,
Because I like it not;
Shattered, shattered, to bits and pieces, pieces
Scattered all over the place.
"Then what? Is there anything else?"
"Yes, but I forgot the words."
"..."
"But it's probably about the little girl putting the doll together again and making it look like the doll she likes. In this way, the little girl found her doll. In the end, the little girl and the doll happily Lived Ever After."
. . . . . .
I love you, you know? No matter how much you hurt me, no matter how broken you have been, no matter if you are even you. Finally, finally, you belong to me!