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Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love [x2] |
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Don't tell your secrets to anyone |
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Because ideas are vulnerable |
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As soon as you say your idea out loud |
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Then it can go and live on its own |
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And you will miss it oh so much |
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And you will wait for it's return |
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And you will wish it were your own |
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But ideas that left never come back home |
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Don't tell your mother that you are afraid |
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Don't tell your lover that your heart might break |
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Don't tell your gods you no longer believe |
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Because as soon as you say it out loud they will leave you |
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And you will miss them oh so bad |
|
And you will wait for their return |
|
And you will wish they were your own |
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But gods that have left you will never grace your home |
|
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love [x2] |
|
Don't tell your secrets to anyone |
|
Because ideas are vulnerable |
|
As soon as you say your ideas out loud |
|
Then they can go and live on their own without you |
|
And you will miss them oh so bad |
|
And you will wait for their return |
|
And you will wish they were your own |
|
But ideas that left will never come back home |
