Some people are built for love
Some are still searching
Some have a hard time letting love in.
When do we find love?
When we met someone,
Or when we let someone go.
Most wrapped themselves in fairytales
Cold, warm and empty
Some let themselves go.
We are princes and princesses
Covered by cold winds.
Life is an empty bottle
And we are the liquid poison.
Destiny is the unfairness of everything
Faith, an illusion of our minds.
Most are handed everything
Even love.
Some are squeezed to death
Life and love I think they are the same thing.
Is love stronger when you are involved
Or when you let go?
Are you the one or maybe!
