Smother Love

Language: English

The true romance is the ideal repression,
That you seek, that you dream of, that you look for in the streets,
That you find in magazines, the cinema, the glossy shops,
And the music spins you round and round looking for the props.

The silken robe, the perfect little ring,
That gives you the illusion when it doesn't mean a thing,
Step outside into the street and staring from the wall
Is perfection of the happiness that makes you feel so small.
Romance, can you dance? D'you fit the right description?
Do you love me? Do you love me?
Do you want me for your own?
Say you love me, say you love me,
Say you know that I'm the one,
Tell me I'm your everything, let us build a home.
We can build a house for two, with little ones to follow.

Proof of our normality that justifies tomorrow.
Romance, romance.
Do you love me? Say you do,
We can leave the world behind and make it just for two.
Love don't make the world go round, it holds it right in place,
Keeps us thinking love's too pure to see another face.
Love's another skin-trap, another social weapon,
Another way to make men slaves and women at their beckon.
Love's another sterile gift, another shit condition,
That keeps us seeing just the one and others not existing.

Women is a holy myth, a gift of mans expression,
She's sweet, defenceless, golden-eyed, a gift of god's repression.
If we didn't have these codes for love, of tokens and positions,
We'd find ourselves as lovers still, not tokens of possessions.
It's a natural, it's a romance, without the power and greed,
We can fight to lift the cover if you want to sow a seed.
Do you love me? Do you? Do you? Don't you see they aim to smother
The actual possibilities of loving all the others?

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