In the wicked game we played;
The distorted rules we make,
The empty words we say,
And the goodbyes in the end of May;
The lies of February's promise;
And the man I want to love.
Cruel honesty that got us in the beginning, and the only thing that's left for us in the end.
By June, a threat of winter's cold;
It wasn't even close to turn our hearts to stone
A teared heart has left me wondering
Why people chose to gamble for love?
A little less hopeful
A little more cynical
This is the price I pay to bet with someone who already knows he got nothing to lose