You can’t patch up a cloth over a hundred times
It wont retain its style
You could say it feels more homely know after one or two times
Worn in and comfortable
Just like home
But darling you can only patch it a few times
In the end it becomes a rag
Used and torn apart
Redundant to say the least
Utterly destroyed by those mordacious clashes
I know that only love can hurt like this
And you know it too
So why’d you have to hit me where it hurts the most
Because there’s a limit to how much you can fix
And even y...