Where is it?
Where did it go?

Could it be that I can't fall in love anymore?
Could it be that I've lost the ability?

Where's that intensity?
That storm of chemicals?
All that anxiety?

Where's the noise?
What's this softness?
Why so much tenderness?

Who am I if I don't have to fight to be loved?

Your eyes are more beautiful,
on your face.

Those lips are redder,
with your grace.

Those overalls,
they fit your body well.

That shirt looks more colorful,
with your smile.

And your hands are prettier,
when you hug me.