My therapist once asked me
If I wanted to be in love
And I told her
I don’t know, I guess, maybe, kind of
I mean it doesn’t sound like something
That I’d really dislike
But then again
I don’t even really know what true love feels like
I write these songs
Singing like I’m an expert
Teaching love in a lecture
A broken heart collector
And I’m fooling myself
Over something I don’t know
Putting on a big show
A single clap from the back row
I don’t know anything
‘Bout the topic, I so choose to falsely go and muse
I’m a farce of a king
Writing love songs all about things I’ve yet to go and try on out
Writing love songs all about things I’ve yet to go and try
I’m shameful of my lacking life
It feels like I’ve been left behind
I missed out on my chances
To feel how love is blind
And I know that I have got some time
So why feel rushed if there’s no need
But part of me just wants to know
What I’m missing, do you agree?
I write these songs
Singing like I’m an expert
Teaching love in a lecture
A broken heart collector
And I’m fooling myself
Over something I don’t know
Putting on a big show
A single clap from the back row
I don’t know anything
‘Bout the topic, I so choose to falsely go and muse
I’m a farce of a king
Writing love songs all about things I’ve yet to go and try on out
Writing love songs all about things I’ve yet to go and try on out
Writing love songs all about things I’ve yet to go and try
I write these songs
Singing like I’m an expert
Teaching love in a lecture
A broken heart collector
And I’m fooling myself
Over something I don’t know
Putting on a big show
A single clap from the back row
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