Tell me what it means to love. To be "in love". To love. What is that? How do you know you are in it? How do you know you aren't making it up in your head?
Can you know? Are we all declaring, from the tops of our Human lungs: That, yes! We are in love In this manufactured glaze of emotional folly In this hopeful realisation of true fear Caught up in our own mortality
So tell me what love is Because I think I am in love.