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surprise, surprise,
i’ve done it again.
he stole my heart,
and returned it broken, the same
very well i have learned the feeling,
to me, it’s pretty routine.
spinning, spinning, and spinning,
then it stops, with no inbetween.
i make it out to be terrible,
as i probably should.
but i’ll never learn to stop,
because God knows i never could.
it’s not in the ending,
the thrill of it all.
it’s in the beginning,
where you first decide to fall.
“stop complaining,” they say,
when i babble on forever.
but i have to say it,
because only with love am i not clever.
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