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Romance to me is like a toy
New and fresh, than I enjoy
But as the months drew into years
Anniversary in arrears
Where did the love that once we shared
go, was it ever truly there?
Soulmate for some might be true
Not for me, old pal, and as for you?
If it helps you to hold that debris
Then who am I to set you free?
But for myself I know full well
From Her wrath, I'd rather chance in hell!