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, hey! 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 of my earliest lessons Of how love felt when I was young Nothing more than flowers I've bought Empty promises and hand-drawn cards Your high hopes and fingers crossed I'm so sorry for letting you down Nothing more than flowers I've bought Empty promises and hand-drawn cards Your high hopes and fingers crossed I'm so sorry for letting you down, hey!