I know about all sorts of hist’ry,
science, math, and other stuff,
but unintelligent am I,
for I know nothing about love.

I know of oceans far below,
and I know of stars above.
I know of all the Beauty in between,
but nothing about love.

I know not what to say,
for words are nothing but a cover.
Only you can set me free,
for I know nothing about love.

I’m trapped inside a Prison
formed by Things I cannot touch,
for I know not where your heart lies,
and I know nothing about love.

I’d do anything it takes,
but I don’t know if that’s enough,
for I know nothing about truth,
and I know nothing about love.

No longer can I see the sun,
the moon or stars way up above.
I can see nothing but your face,
still, I know nothing about love.

I’m on the edge of near insanity,
the Words you write: the final shove.
They know everything of friendship,
but know nothing about love.

Do they ever speak of promise?
Tell me: May I be in luck?
Do they speak “Patience” for the man
who knows nothing about love?

Perhaps I’m already insane,
(My hungry heart pumps starving blood)
to think that I have found the one,
when I know nothing about love.

A Thought is merely temporal,
and a Dream is not enough.
I must know something at the least,
if it is nothing about love.

The feeling in my heart,
is pure as snow-bound, snow-white dove,
but I know not what it is,
for I know nothing about love.

I’m torn between two sides:
To live or cry, to die or love.
The only thing I know for certain?
I know nothing about love.