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Suite in A Minor: IV. Sarabande

de Anthony Holborne

I could write about love
But I heard you should write what you know
I can make a song about some faceless girl
But I wouldn't come close

To the fucked up feeling
Of being fucked up
I'm not in love, I'm not in love
Ain't that fucked up?

I could write about love
But my heart only responds to caffeine
I wish I was as capable as I am
When I'm writing and I think

I want the fucked feeling
Of being fucked up
I'm not in love, I'm not in love
Can't fall in love

And my aromantic moodboard makes it cool to be alone
A collection of bad poetry and photos on my phone

You're the closest body to me
I think that I'm in love
But only with a thought
Oh, only with a thought

I could write about love
But I heard you should write what you know
And I don't know
I don't know

And my aromantic moodboard makes it cool to be alone
A collection of bad poetry and photos on my phone

You're the closest body to me
I think that I'm in love
But only with a thought
Oh, only with a thought

And my aromantic moodboard is the reason I'm alone
I'll lie a thousand times convincing people they're the one
And the human condition is the way we fall in love

But only with a thought
Oh, only with a thought

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