Love and hate. Their turns they wait. When next I come to Orchart Street. I'll use my key. I'll enter soft on stocking feet to see. If you have told the truth to me. Hate and love. They push they shove. They use my life just like a toy. They take my mind. They must enjoy their puppet on a wire. Until I'm nothing but desire. Love and hate. We meet we mate. We give ourselves to fantasies. Of who we wish our loves could be. And sometimes in the dark. We accidentally find a heart