She didn’t care
About the style of his hair
She didn’t care
About the pile of clothes
He let her wear
She didn’t care if the days were a fright
As long as they had each other to hold come night
She didn’t care if his wounds
Bled her blood
He knew she’d be there to heal them soon
She didn’t care about the talks of affair
For her eyes became blinded by despair
And the absence of the love
That was once there