Love is a thing with two left feet.
We urge it to hurry,
We chant the repeat.
Love is a thing with tires flat.
We push it forward
To where we've sat.
Love is a thing so fresh and new.
It warms our souls
And faces too.
Love is a thing that's hard to hold:
It grows and stretches
Cools, grows old.
Love is a thing that always stays,
Through every trial,
Now, always.
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