It seems that we got an instinct, Baby,
No matter who plunges first.
You can look across a crowded room And pick out the one
Who will hurt you the worst.
So fasten your seat belt, Baby, This ride could be rough.
You know that love is gonna make me Make you cry,
Until we both say, "Uncle! We've had enough."
Chorus:
Love doesn't have to be pretty.
Love doesn't have to be fun.
Love doesn't have to be flowers and lace,
It can get in your face
Like a loaded gun.
It likes to tangle up your dreams.
It likes to do you 'till you're done.
Love doesn't have to be pretty.
Love doesn't have to be fun.
I got this theory, Baby
That when the Lord made the world,
He cut us all in pieces And mixed us up Into a crazy swirl.
We want to find the other half of ourselves.
We try on everyone for fit. When you're sifting haystacks for needles
It's for sure you're gonna get pricked.
Bridge:
You can let it play your life. It will franchise your blues.
It will set you up with One loving wife
And then five or six more'Fore it really gets through with you.
It's like we're all on a ladder, Baby.
Everyone that I know Is in love with the one who's above
And couldn't care less'Bout the one who's below.
It's a long climb to heaven this way. We try not to look down.
We know if we did What we'd see down below
Is a big pile of hearts All over the ground.