How can you not be bothered by all of these sheep,
The ways they treat each other?
“Wait, check out that lamb,” you say. “It’s really something!”
I guess that’s just the difference between us.
The people I love ask me why I don’t write any love songs.
I hate to disappoint them.
I say “Who’d want to hold these bloody hands?”
But what I mean is this:
I love you,
But please don’t get me wrong.
It’s not what you think. This is the
closest that we’ll come to a love song.
Isn’t it great when you find someone else that you care about?
You just forget all your friends. Who needs them?
They’ve no clue what you’re talking about.
You’re clearly unique, something special, the one exception.
This is a whole new spectrum of human emotion.
No, this breaking new ground only meant becoming
Listen to yourselves.
The meaning’s lost through all this repetition.
I’m just so crazy about you.
I need you more with every kiss.
You’ve been running through my mind.
You’re so much more important than this song.
Wonder just how we’ll grow old together…
If I make it that far, I probably won’t be getting much sleep,
Sorting out how I feel and where everyone drifted off to,
And how I’ll always be just one wolf eyeing all these sheep.
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