I saw the sun flow through his lies,
I saw the moon shine in his eyes.
Suddenly, every part of me knew,
That I fell victim to his game.
His precious yet hurtful game called love.

With a single glove resting on his hand,
He stole my heart, as if it were bootleg treasure.
I felt his squeeze on my heart, as if it were just sand.
He’d play me to no end, to no measure.
His precious yet hurtful game called love.

No one, no one could take me away from him,
But in the same instance everyone could save me.
Every night and day I prayed for his release on me,
But his love felt like a key, to my broken heart.
That he played with his precious yet hurtful game called love.

That love he possessed, was an evil love,
It wasn’t for just me, it was for everyone like me.
He held a million hearts in one hand,
He crushed them all like a bug.
His precious yet hurtful game called love.

Today this day, he confesses a love for me,
A love I have never understood.
I dare to tell him that I never loved him,
When I miss his game of love so dearly.
His precious yet hurtful game called love.