Welcome to the Broken Hearts Club: III. It’s nice, and it hurts

Love is a damp corner of a dark room Where the bugs come in.

It is potential on ice in a rink

That no one seems to have brought The right shoes for.

I mean it is inconvenient, funny, Poorly timed, full of uneven steps, And unwanted company.

I’m seventeen, so chew my words Before you swallow them,

But understand when I say,

However clumsily and in juvenile tender, That I care, and it’s nice, and it hurts, And I call it love.

Welcome to the broken hearts club

Where healing is not so rare that we don’t sing about it,

But not so common that we know the words To any of these songs.