Love is a fever, we won't discuss repeatedly. It's "you", it's "I", it's not "forever", not even longer "you and me". And love is something, that I aspire to forget, Cause if you just sing, you will be left with nothing but brutally regret. Oh stupid fool! I played and sang my life away! I serenade you bone and flesh, I dythirambed you soul and pain. I turned myself inside-out, I broke my skull and spot my guts. Wrapped to be cut by doubt, to see: my masochism misfits your gentle cuts. My spark, my master, my love and my ultimate muse, Look at me now, I still am singing to my heart, so broken and confused. Oh stupid fool! I played and sang my life away! I serenade you bone and flesh, I dythirambed you soul and pain. So leave this to my sarcastic solitude, Cause if you were brave enough, I'm hella pretty sure you would. It's been two years, and we've grown old, and you've grown tired about me. So please just close this door, and keep this talk to love affairs exclusively.
