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There is a lonely love song

That echoes through the years;

Reaching out, but catching none

With timelessness and tears.

She breaks the back of heroes

And sullies all that try

To think of love as truth,

Instead of rampant lie.

So what's the point of singing

When hope is hard to find;

When our ties to earth and love

Are cutting at the bind?

The point is that our pedestal

Is where our dreams are hung.

In the end, we cannot fathom

We're each a love song to be sung.

So, let the chorus raise the sky

And give her back the glory.

Act upon her perfect wisdom

And rewrite history's morbid story.