While you make pretty letters,
I'm being cut to shreds.
You feed me to the lion,
a delicate balance.
(How could this be? 'ave uttered it all.
One week in purgatory will cleanse you of it all)
[Love is a lightswitch I can turn off and on.
I can say all I want when I want.
I can bat my eyelids and pretend all is for naught.
And then, when alls said and done,
love is a lightswitch I can turn off.
Love is a lightswitch I can turn on when I want.
Pen sweet poems about endearing emotion
But, is it not fun to turn it off?
And write what I feel and claim it was nothing
Someone else had conspired to flick the switch off.
So gather round friends, and I will reveal
the secret revolving the switch.
Loud screams and great joy will follow
If only you turn the switch off. So,
friends, gather around, scream on the top of your lungs.
"Love is a lightswitch I can turn off and on!"]
If you'd prefer, you can scream any one of other things.
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