(But I...) I love this person. I don't need any other reasons I love this person, And I always want to be by his side
Don't ask me "why?" I don't even know myself I've tried to persuade my heart against it, I don't know how many times.
But it never does any good it seems. Even when I turn the other way, The needle in my heart still points only to them.
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I'll cradle my wounds, Ignore the voices that call out [telling me not to], And run to their arms, Even though I know the rose-colored glasses will come off eventually...
But... But I... I still love them anyway; So much it makes me want to cry. They're more important to me than being happy. I love this person.
(But I...) I love this person. I don't need any other reasons I love this person, And I always want to be by his side
Don't ask me "why?" I don't even know myself I've tried to persuade my heart against it, I don't know how many times.
But it never does any good it seems. Even when I turn the other way, The needle in my heart still points only to them.
I'll cradle my wounds, Ignore the voices that call out [telling me not to], And run to their arms, Even though I know the rose-colored glasses will come off eventually...
But... But I... I still love them anyway; So much it makes me want to cry. They're more important to me than being happy. I love this person.