And love is a thing that you can't define

Though you try with all your might through the riddles and rhymes

But it'll fly you like a kite; it'll throw you to the ground

But that's the best thing I have found

And it comes and it goes

Where it's headed no one knows

And we come and we go

Like the winter and the spring

Losing everything just to gain it back again

And oh, how pretty is the middle of June?