I may be a hopeless romantic But you know that better than I do You make me a cliché And you do it just so easily I don't know if I'm doing this right But you know I simply cannot hide
Give me your praise I'll give you my days Give me your demands I'll give you my hands Give me your sickness I'll give you forgiveness Give me your best I'll give you nothing less Give me your everything I'll give you anything
you make me love so much more than just you im in love with the morning light in love with getting better in love with the high that i won't live down in love with this love
I hate the calm And yet exude it Appearing aloof And yet pulling my hair out When things appear fine And I know they aren't I suppose it's because "In a quiet pool, the devil dwells."
How didst I turneth To this monstrosity I am ev'rything Yond makes me sick I won't receiveth holp So it shall beest up to me To just p'rfect This disease