Love

True love is nothing more than the wrong hill to die on

Trauma bonding over exes with the best of intentions

Put me on a pedestal so you can rip me off

A false sense of security that I make up as I go along

I love you so much it makes me feel sick

So hold back my hair until I stop

Ey!

True love is nothing more than the wrong hill to die on

Psychoanalyse my attachment styles

And cross every boundary at once

A false sense of security

That I make up as I go along

A former reference from my earliest lessons

Of how love felt when I was young

Nothing more than the flowers I bought

Empty promises and hand-drawn cards

Your high hopes and fingers crossed

I'm so sorry for you letting you down

Nothing more than the flowers I've bought

Empty promises and hand-drawn cards

Your high hopes and fingers crossed

I'm so sorry for you letting you down

Hey!