What's love got to do with it? he says.
Nothing, nothing at all.
This closeness that is not close enough,
The distance is killing me, these two inches of space
Are just two inches too much.
I press onto your back as if to
Make you more a part of me than you already are
To get you any closer than in this moment
Love, it ain't got nothing to do with it
Not for you
Oh hell, I wish it had something to do with it.