Posted by Holli on 5/6/2001, 5:17 pm So love is what draws my soul through my eyes? So love is this? And this, this is love? So if this is love, this constant falling rain,
So love is this thing that grips at my throat,
Is this not what poets spoke of?
That the songwriter rattles on the guitar?
That beautiful thing called love?
And wears me out from weeping,
And keeps me turning in my bed at night,
Love, that beautiful, delicate thing.
That sweet, gentle, glowing emotion,
That burns up my insides like fire
And drowns my heart in every ocean.
Then I should die, before I ever fall in love again.
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