A game called love, what a shame.
Keep a count, keep a score.
because your playing with each others minds,
just to get laid,
just to be a whore,
The price was paid,
because some one’s always in deeper,
than the other.
Of course you have rare exceptions,
give it time, it’ll fall apart,
if it goes in the wrong direction.
With the kaleidoscope called love,
there isn’t any question,
with your life and heart,
your gambling.
Roll the dice, draw some cards,
get ready for the game to start.
One heart is torn in two,
the other is laughing at you.
What is there to do?
Cry and bawl, on your knees to crawl?
A shame, as I said before,
some one, is treated like a whore.
That's how to keep score.
an evil game, for evil masterminds.
So tear some one open from the inside out.
Leave no time, to listen to bitching or some one shout.
In this game called love, there is no doubt.
Its all about, paying yourself,
the motto is.
“Fuck some one else.” |