Such a cliché, to note the feelings inside,
I don’t know, if I say them, they’ll rip at my pride,
That’s the moment; I rush away, from it all,
I hide, until I see you again, then I fall,
Once more, you take me on that spinning whirl.
That internal convulsion, it picks up once more,
Everything moving so fast, you can almost hear the roar,
I feel love sick, and somewhat sweetly ill,
Your smile is a dose, and the rest is the pill.
Can I count on you?
Because from where we’ve headed off to,
I don’t want to feel so weakened by anyone but you.
Breaking me up, into all different emotions,
Taking my organs, in different notions.
I guess I'm falling; over all of you.
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