| There’s a part of this feeling that I just cannot kill
|
| But the name of this thing is not love
|
| And I can’t take a potion, and I won’t take a pill
|
| So it tortures me still
|
| But the name of this thing is not love
|
| Then you start entertaining such a terrible thought
|
| Life is so very short
|
| And the name of this thing is not love
|
| There’s a bruise on her arm
|
| And some blood on the floor
|
| But the name of this thing is not love
|
| And they’re taunting some girl
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| That they claim to adore
|
| She can’t take anymore
|
| But the name of this thing is not love
|
| Who in the world do you think that you are?
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| That you pushed me this far
|
| But the name of this thing is not love
|
| He thinks of her still
|
| Although you’d never guess
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| He’s trying so to forget her
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| The occasional moments that he’ll always bless
|
| Watching her dress
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| For worse or better
|
| He watched her pick over her broken playthings
|
| What played on his mind is not love
|
| The cast aside tokens and discarded rings
|
| Over one of his flings
|
| But the name of this thing is not love
|
| Then he threw something down in the wild rushing river
|
| And won’t ever recover
|
| But the name of this thing is not love
|
| Then you start out pretending that you’re so very tough
|
| Life is not short enough
|
| But the name of this thing is not love |