Your perfect clothes, your perfect hair Always in their ordered place accentuate your perfect face. The perfect ego, perfect grade and eyes of an immortal shade. Oh what a pity, what a shame you don't have someone else to blame. It's slowly deconstructing you. How I Know Love.
Love is manifest in so many ways.
Love is kind, love is cruel. Love is what you make of it. Silent faces wander slow eyed Promises to keep Not the faithful black and gold but silver for a night Stories weaved in days of old can finally take flight and, of course, the most recent. It feels like love is fast asleep. No burning secrets with a smile, No dreamed-up fantasies on file.