First

Is it me or my heart that writes
It bleeds, it hurts, it even bites!
Knowing in advance that my love is not true,
But in matters of heart there is not much I can do.

My heart, so vain, thinks it's different from me;
It roams, it flirts, it thinks Love can be!
So in search it found refuge in your heart,
I just pray it returns if even in part.

Do you realize what you have stolen, criminal?
It was young, it was fresh, it was even virginal!
Would you keep it as I did - lovingly?
Or would it be a toy, like yours is to me?

Broken, Bruised, Battered or Blue,
I want it back, I cannot love you.