I seem to have a cold heart.

I didn't miss much on love,

I suppose. 

Walking home with my friends

Who gossiped of break ups

And patch-ups

I wondered how broken heart

Eased all over again. 

Was that little touch enough

To fall for the same mess

Didn't the hurt suffice them

Their snippets seemed so gory

Maybe I've a cold heart. 

Yes , I do have a cold heart.

So cold 

That the fire of love subsumes itself

And vanishes. 

I might not have missed much on love , though

The girls told tales so fancy 

How love was to them 

Like jazz music in the library

Or the olives in your margarita.

They said love was like whiskey

On the rooftop under the starry sky.

But what I heard was how

Love was the emptiness in the room

Where I could hear the creaky wooden floor

And scare myself. 

If love was anything to me , 

It was a sweet death

No matter how sweet but was death. 

And I didn't want to die 

In this phenomenon of goosechase.

Oh my , did I not want to dance tonight 

Or did I just had a cold heart