True love is a cliché
I rather take a bullet to the head
Then think there's another human made for me
Think you could please me?
Please..
You have a better chance touching the moon
Tried the love thing before
The aftermath worse then a typhoon
Debris everywhere
The damage was to extensive
Unrepairable
So I left everything there
Packed up an fled  
No point going back for love
I left it under the stack of chairs