i stopped trying to figure out what love is
it's better to hang out with the trees
and just go with the breeze.
maybe it will hit me like a bus,
maybe it will land softly like a butterfly.
either way, i might not be able to tell.
so Lord, when love comes my way
please say to me,
"jane, this is the day".
until then i'll hang out with the trees
where life is a breeze
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