We fell in love that year.
Love spoke that night,
drunken at a bar.
First beer,
second,
third,
fourth,
fifth...I'd lost count.

You had a few,
one,
two,
three...I didn't really count.

Love had a voice of its own in a drunken state.
It told you I loved you.
Love doesn't lie when you're this wasted,
it merely tells the truth.

You grabbed my by the shoulders.
Kissed me,
and Love spoke again.
"I love you, too."

Surely,
Love spoke,
but deep down I know,
I was the one who really spoke.