Could it be that the pain I feel, is the same that you too suffer?
The one which makes me bleed upon every mention of 'her',
The exact one that you endure through every 'him' I whisper.
Could it be that you and I have lost all cuddling nature?
All that is left, perhaps, is a mere need to leave each other?
And every second we long to hate our blooming significant other.
Could it be that all we feel, really is not the matter?
Although replaced, it is not right all after.
And deep within there still lives you, the reason for my laughter?
Could it be that it is you and I that we still rather,
Oh, that silver ring is still the one we have on our fingers?
And every day, every night, our memories is what lingers.
Could it be, oh tell me dear,
Tell me through a whisper.
Make it close, make it matter, make it by my ear.
The one which makes me bleed upon every mention of 'her',
The exact one that you endure through every 'him' I whisper.
Could it be that you and I have lost all cuddling nature?
All that is left, perhaps, is a mere need to leave each other?
And every second we long to hate our blooming significant other.
Could it be that all we feel, really is not the matter?
Although replaced, it is not right all after.
And deep within there still lives you, the reason for my laughter?
Could it be that it is you and I that we still rather,
Oh, that silver ring is still the one we have on our fingers?
And every day, every night, our memories is what lingers.
Could it be, oh tell me dear,
Tell me through a whisper.
Make it close, make it matter, make it by my ear.
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