Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street,
Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly,
Loving him is like trying to change your mind once you’re already flying,
through the free fall,
Like the colors in autumn so bright just before they lose it all.
Losing him was blue, like I’d never known,
Missing him was dark gray, all alone,
Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you’ve never met,
But loving him was red,
Loving him was red.