| Feels like December but it’s May
|
| I’ve gone as pale as Doris Day
|
| The blue sky’s torn assunder
|
| by clouds that warn of thunder
|
| Is this what they used to call love?
|
| Your face surrounds me everywhere
|
| like a kaleidoscope’s nightmare
|
| This outpouring of emotion
|
| is boring as an ocean
|
| Is this what they used to call love?
|
| Well it musn’t be
|
| the chicken pox
|
| I’ve never met a chicken
|
| but whenever I
|
| get near you dear
|
| my heart starts to sicken
|
| In the 9th circle of this hell
|
| my heart is burning and unwell
|
| what demons like within it
|
| I’ll die in one more minute
|
| Is this what they used to call love?
|
| Is this what they used to call love? |