They called me love when I was young,
I'd dance, I used to sing a song,
I'd dress my children up in stars,
I'd lift the nears, pull down the fars,
They used to watch me dance and play,
And hold me tight, wherever I lay,
With warm hands and tender kisses,
I'd crown a king,
I make a missus.

But no there is no love, no more,
All is lost to dust and war,
They do not care what hate they tell,
As the castle in the skies falls down to hell,
They fight like dogs and keep the score,
And what was once is there, no more,
For he's the dog and she's the bait,
He moves to kill, and then... but wait!
For he's the bait and she's the bitch,
They do not care which way they switch,
For what is love but lost as anger grows,
And is lost in its great throws.
And there is cold and there is pain,
The brother of hate and the one betwain,
And there is hate and there is loss,
And loneliness the bitter cost.
The creatures tear each other up,
And then they start on their own pup,
For what is gained is lost in war,
And casualties - what is one more?

And then there comes the bitter pass,
And on old wounds grows now fresh grass,
My children lost forever from my home,
It is but cold now where I roam,
For I am Love and I am gone,
I am left but to sing a song...

...of a long forgotten memory.

They've burnt their last.
They've thrown the key.