I've heard rumors there is more
If we venture to the source
It will phantom every meager thing to which our hearts are sworn
And they say "shelter's in the fold" and "there's risk in chasing after truth"
But those souls are cynic-sick
They thing that we have much to lose
This is all just sound and fury
Product and sum of faulty yearning
The Harlot life I hold closely
A senseless refrain of lust and longing
And I have only ever known the shadows and reflections
The temporal and contingent
If this isn't love
it's the closest thing that I have ever known
Am I to let go?
Even if it's false, at least it feels like hope.
Could love be more than feeling
and second hand romance
I salvage from hearts as dark and damaged?
Could it be Someone who gave up everything to show that I am fallen but worth the scars it took to prove that this is love?
This is all I'll ever need
This is love
Oh, this is love