Someone I know wants to know,
And if I answer honestly,
It's the wrong answer, fo sho.
And part of it all is to never answer,
Because part of love is the uncertainty,
Of where the next moment will take you,
And how close you will actually be,
To the edge of things, and so reality,
Because it's never as solid as you think.
Tell me when it is that you feel most alive,
And I'll show you that you're close to the brink.
And it's alright,
What is love, anyway?
I swear I've never thought of it in those terms,
And I'm not thinking of it today.
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