I’ve seen love in candlelight,

burning slow through endless nights,

and I’ve watched it fade to ash

without a spark in sight.

I’ve worn my heart out on my sleeve,

and stitched it back with threads of grief.

If you care too much, they’ll walk away,

and if you hide, you’ll waste the day.

I’ve held love like a fragile flame,

and I’ve let it slip through my hands again.

It’s the illusion I still chase,

the ghost that wears a different face.

I really don’t know love

I really don’t know love at all.

I’ve walked through storms with head held high,

felt the weight beneath the sky,

and I’ve stumbled where the shadows grow,

still chasing where the wild things go.

Old friends turn into strangers’ eyes,

and sometimes truth just feels like lies.

You gain a step, you lose your way,

but you still keep moving anyway.

I’ve tasted life both sweet and cruel,

been the dreamer, been the fool.

It’s the illusion I still call

the greatest trick I’ve known at all.

I really don’t know life

I really don’t know life at all.

And maybe that’s the curse I bear,

to love too much, to always care.

To paint in colors far too bright,

until the canvas fades to white.

To give my all, to never stay,

to leave them laughing when I go away.

I’ve seen the highs, I’ve felt the fall,

been lifted up, been nothing at all.

From give and take, to win and lose,

I’ve worn the crown, I’ve worn the bruise.

And when the curtains finally call,

I’ll still admit, through it all

I really don’t know love…

I really don’t know life…

I really don’t know me at all.