Love

True love is nothing more than the wrong hill to die on
Trauma bonding over exes with the best of intentions
Put me on a pedestal, so you can rip me off
A false sense of security that I make up as I go along
I love you so much, it makes me feel sick
So hold back my hair until I stop, hey!

True love is nothing more than the wrong hill to die on
Psychoanalyse my attachment styles and cross every boundary at once
A false sense of security that I make up as I go along
A former reference of my earliest lessons
Of how love felt when I was young

Nothing more than flowers I've bought
Empty promises and hand-drawn cards
Your high hopes and fingers crossed
I'm so sorry for letting you down

Nothing more than flowers I've bought
Empty promises and hand-drawn cards
Your high hopes and fingers crossed
I'm so sorry for letting you down, hey!