yournewhaircut
08/19/08, 02:38 AM
"She loves you-
She loves you not--
She loves you-
She loves you not--"
Petals of red, orange, and yellow are piling up.
"She loves you-
She loves you not--
She loves you-
She loves you not--"
But in the debris, her face appears to me
with that come hither look in hey eyes
and her lips caress the words,
"Why don't you come a bit closer to me, so I can prove that that thing you've heard of called love is real.
And it's not just a fairy tale, love is real. A masterpiece sculpted in your soul, love is real, and you can feel it if you just reach out and touch me."
"She loves you-
She loves you not--
She loves you-
She loves you not--"
You touch her, you feel something brighter than the sun, then you don't.
"She loves you not--
She loves you-
She loves you not--"
Spoke each rose in the garden that I tore apart.
Now the soil takes roundness of her face and tells me,
"Kid, it's nothin' to get upset about. It happens all the time. And didn't I show you that the prize you wanted was real. It may not last forever, but, boy, love is real. Like the hurt and remorse in your eyes, love is real, and you could have it, if there were any flowers in your garden left to give."
She loves you not--
She loves you-
She loves you not--"
Petals of red, orange, and yellow are piling up.
"She loves you-
She loves you not--
She loves you-
She loves you not--"
But in the debris, her face appears to me
with that come hither look in hey eyes
and her lips caress the words,
"Why don't you come a bit closer to me, so I can prove that that thing you've heard of called love is real.
And it's not just a fairy tale, love is real. A masterpiece sculpted in your soul, love is real, and you can feel it if you just reach out and touch me."
"She loves you-
She loves you not--
She loves you-
She loves you not--"
You touch her, you feel something brighter than the sun, then you don't.
"She loves you not--
She loves you-
She loves you not--"
Spoke each rose in the garden that I tore apart.
Now the soil takes roundness of her face and tells me,
"Kid, it's nothin' to get upset about. It happens all the time. And didn't I show you that the prize you wanted was real. It may not last forever, but, boy, love is real. Like the hurt and remorse in your eyes, love is real, and you could have it, if there were any flowers in your garden left to give."