Sitting here writing all these love ballads,
I wouldn't say that my love's as deep as the Pacific Ocean,
All I can say is that I wanna be yours,
But I continue to watch these flowers burn again and again,
I watch these swings go on and back, again.
Don't know when my feelings will learn to rest again.
It's like staring at grenade without its pin, wishing it wouldn't go off.
That's how it feels writing about you.