love, love, love (love love)

Have I
ever told you before
I think you're beautiful when
you're sleeping?

(I have faith you watch me in
my slumber, too.)

If I'm
all that you're looking for,
tell me,

why is there a river streaming
down your face?

Sometimes makes me wonder
all about your
love.

After some time
it's something I find true.
Love's not a grave, it won't decay
on you.
Too many days I was afraid
of love.

What
if nothing is just that and
suffering's the only thing we're good
at?
Dreaming, picture that
a whole world in a slumber.
But don't get
too attached to the living,

even every single memory's
fleeting.

That's a fact, being torn
asunder.

But to my surprise, no reason
why, one day I woke
up and realized.

Give it to me,
love.

I'll keep you in my focus
with love and affection.

I could try and explain all this, but what good would it do, honestly? We're all better off figuring it out on our own, I suppose. I'm settled.