Love's a master, rich but cruel.
I know, I was her slave.
Doing work you should of knew
It will dig yourself a grave.

Love's a poet, I've herd her songs.
Her words are gentle. Her words are wise.
But naked, blind and naive as such
I never noticed that they were lies.

Love's a friend you call at night
To wipe those problems off your neck.
But such close friends you have to watch
Not to stab you in the back.

As love is lovely, but harsh sometimes.
It makes you cry. It makes you dance.
It's scary, at first, but you learn in time
She's always worth a second chance.