I wrote you a song,
shyly singing,
story of our strange love,
our starry eyed,
stupid but brave love,
all the ways you drove me insane,
love.
La, la, la,
love.

Our song is terrible,
because we never learned to harmonise.
You can’t project,
slipping in and out of key,
and every now and again,
I forget the longing, loving lyrics.
Our song is terrible,
my strange,
starry eyed,
stupid but brave love,
but I can’t get it out of my head.
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