You are always new, the last of your kisses was ever the sweetest.
A lover tries to stand in well with the pet dog of the house.
What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?
The young habitually mistake lust for love, they're infested with idealism of all kinds.
All sorts of yayness floods my brain. Love is such a drug.
Since there's no more you and me. It's time I let you go so I Can Be Free.
Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?