To the days, the nights and the lights,
I feel my soul sinking down the aisle.
To the all the love black and white,
I see the changing colours of a juvenile.
To the heart which beats the exuberance of youth,
and to all those countless minds who fall for this lovely truth.
You may wander and roam the streets of affection,
and think of love as something close to perfection.
But its the magic killer for those who’ve been betrayed,
like a stumbling pillar ready to fall and ready to be slayed.
Fascination only occurs among hearts that are connected,
as feelings are somethings that cannot be collected.