I’m making you more than a friend
So I’m sorry if you’re my experiment
But the blonde in your hair is not real,
and how’s that supposed to make me feel?

And I’m afraid to win it
So although I’ll try, I’ll in the end come up just shy
And I’m afraid to be it
So I swear I’ll try, but know I just can’t help it

So this is the way I deal
The ice is replaced with the sentiment
that comfort is achieved in pairs
Maybe that’s why I’m so glad you’re here

What other kind of love is there?
Is there anything that could be stopping me?
What other kind of love is there?
Is it possible to not be property?