If a man jumped upon me
In the cloaked darkness of the night
Then my heart would beat and race in fear
My response would be to fight

Whereas if a child jumped out in daylight
Wearing a mask for Hallow's Eve
My heart would still race the same
But only a smile it would achieve

Now if you threw an object at me
During the heat of a passionate row
I'd be angered to a greater extent
The object would be seen as an attack somehow

Whereas if we were playing in the park
And you threw an object at me
Chances are I would throw it back
And laughing childishly we would be

And it is for this reason
That love can easily become hate
Your physiological response is the same
But the perception you must await

And maybe, just maybe, love doesn't exist
It's only a story fabricated by society
So that when my heart shall start to race
I can percieve it as something that's greater than me