Is this what love really is,
Yelling through a quarrel
And making up with a kiss?
Why do we have to fight?
We starve true love by day
And feed lust all through the night.
I wonder where peace went.
Why do we pick at each other;
Why can’t we be content?
If tenderness has flown,
I’m thinking more and more,
It’s better to be alone.
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