And that's the problem
We all have a different Idea of love
To some it may be heaven
To some may it be hell
It might be in between
But if it's true, there must be pain
But that's not how everything works, you know
It's all a case of black and white
We live in a world
Where everything is extreme
So are the things you feel
No matter how much you want extremity
It always must be
Not black nor white
But the greys in between
About how it's never perfect
You both will have to walk
Towards each other, at your own pace
And then, again, fall
For each other, or for the idea of love...
As long--as it's your call
That's the problem
We all have a different idea of love
It's either heaven
Or it's hell
But nothing in between
Well, that's not for me to say
It's how it's always been
Not found amidst the shades of grey
But totally extreme
They call my love a paradox
And that's exactly how it seems
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