| He can’t sleep, he can’t eat
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| He keeps thinking about her behind the locked door of her bedroom
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| As she knowingly tortures the shell that is left of her bridegroom
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| And what did he do to deserve
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| This whore of a wife who parades her disgrace to his face now
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| When he loved her and gave up his life in more ways than she knows how
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| And all I can say is that
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| Love is a terrible art, it’s a hook in the heart
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| That can drag you on broken glass
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| And as you protest the shards in your flesh
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| The hook tears out your chest until you’re just a broken mess
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| Where is God in this rot?
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| Depraved she commits the most heinous of sins and breaks her vows
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| But he loves her despite all the crimes she devises in his house
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| Where is God? |
| I’ve been taught
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| That He’s close to the broken, it’s true I have spoken with Him some
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| When I look in my brother’s eyes I can see where his love comes from
|
| And all he can say is that
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| Love is a terrible art, it’s a hook in the heart
|
| That can drag you on broken glass
|
| And as you protest the shards in your flesh
|
| The hook tears out your chest until you’re just a broken mess
|
| But he has mercy on her lover and does not bleed him dry
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| A credit to his self control if it were me that monster would probably die
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| Love is a beautiful thing, she can make your heart sing
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| When you’re walking on broken glass
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| She will open your eyes, make your heart feel alive
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| Point you toward the sunrise
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| Help you leave all this broken mess behind
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| Love is a beautiful thing
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| Will you leave this broken mess behind? |