I'm Fine

Love is only some sense
Of the absence of sense,
It invades our lives
When we have other plans.
It devours your days,
Then it eats you inside,
It erases your face,
But you don't really mind.
It is gradually making you blind!

October is counting time
And turning to dust all the letters,
The words that I once liked to rhyme,
The diaries. It doesn't matter.
Yes, it doesn't matter. I'm fine.

Love is only a book
For illiterate masses
And a few stupid deaths
Due to hopeless romances.
It's a right to create,
With no chances to find,
It's the same old damned myth,
Just of some other kind.
It is gradually making you blind!

October is counting time
And turning to dust all the letters,
The words that I once liked to rhyme,
The diaries. It doesn't matter.
Yes, it doesn't matter. I'm fine.
I'm fine.