Oh you really got a hold of me,
And I'm not sure if it's right or wrong,
Or if I've overlooked the reasons I should stay away from,
Your face; It's so divine. So I'll ignore the twine;
The prophesy predicted effortlessly and scripted.
I guess that's why they call the anguish love.
Fit together like a broken dove.
I guess that's why they call the anguish love.

And the passerby's look beyond. They don't notice or show us,
That they even see our pain.
It's all impossible to see what is not visible,
Behind the picket fence; behind the quick pretense;
The prophesy predicted effortlessly and scripted.
I guess that's why they call the anguish love.
We fit together like a broken dove.
I guess that's why they call the anguish love.

And we don't want no one saying nothing;
Nobodies business but our own, how we're loving.
But a point of reference wouldn't do me harm.

Oh you really got a hold of me,
And I'm not sure if it's right or wrong,
Or where the feelings end and where the cheap façade takes over.
Why don't you choose for me? I guess I finally see;
The prophecy's predicted effortlessly and scripted.
You and me were meant to toy with love.
To try and fit the hand inside the glove.
We fit together like a broken dove.