| The apple tree,
|
| That stood and watched our first kiss.
|
| The glue I bought,
|
| So you could mend my favourite dish.
|
| Oh the broken vase,
|
| I once threw at you and missed.
|
| And this is love,
|
| A story of love.
|
| Your checkered handkerchief,
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| The one I used when my kitten died.
|
| And birthday cakes,
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| A box of tools, a TV guide.
|
| Ah catchin' cold,
|
| Trudging through the rain for a mile.
|
| To get some special gifts,
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| For your sister’s little child.
|
| And that little dream house,
|
| That sits up on that sunny hill.
|
| And all the dreams we had that,
|
| This house our kids would one day fill.
|
| And this is love,
|
| Oh and this is love,
|
| Don’t you know,
|
| That this is love,
|
| The story of love,
|
| Glory of love.
|
| A birthday party full of rain,
|
| And drinking too much pink champagne.
|
| The hand that struck through jealousy,
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| And broke the ties between you and me.
|
| A little heart that would not forgive,
|
| And wondering how I’m gonna live,
|
| With nothing left but hurt and pain,
|
| We try and try and try again.
|
| And this is love,
|
| Oh and this is love,
|
| Don’t you know,
|
| That this is love,
|
| The story of love.
|
| A snapshot pasted to my mind,
|
| Of all the things I’ve left behind.
|
| A book of poems, a favourite record,
|
| And how you used to cheat at checkers.
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| The tree that spied on our first kiss,
|
| That old broken, broken disc.
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| Whoa, all of these things I truly miss,
|
| But don’t you know, don’t you know,
|
| That this is love,
|
| Oh and this is love,
|
| Don’t you know,
|
| That this is love,
|
| The story of love.
|
| Na na na…
|
| Too much bubbling pink champagne,
|
| Nothing left but hurt and pain,
|
| Maybe a poem and one or two records,
|
| Can’t nobody beat you when you’re cheating at checkers.
|
| Na na na… |