Some say love is a burning thing,
That it makes a fiery ring,
Oh but I know love as a fading thing,
Just as fickle as a feather in a stream.
See, honey, I saw love,
You see it came to me.
It puts its face up to my face so I could see.
Yeah then I saw love disfigure me,
Into something I am not recognizing...
A montage of imperfect moments of love, that heals us, breaks us and…