I still love HER by Paul.itiCs Lyrics
I met this girl when she was 10 years old,
and what I loved most, she had so much soul.
Even as she aged,
You could see it on her face.
Her piercing eyes started it all,
it’s Lens were aesthetic;
From its iris to its cornea,
She had pupils that would school your memory,
and take you on a journey through time:
as if you never knew her.
But behind her placid exterior, lied a passionate loving core,
that makes indeed still waters run deep.
Her mask was well countoured,
But it was far from pure.
During the day, she's real, but at night, she's gone.
Her heart was willing, but her flesh was truly weak.
She hid her habits from me,
playing spades with my hearts,
like I was some joker,
yet she was well known around the clubs.
She worked long late nights, tirelessly, hardworking.
She persevered under the hardships of some un-fair rules (Pharaoahs)
Plagued by the insults of opportune men,
flogging their billed weapon against her body,
causing her to cause her to work harder,
to work faster,
they derived pleasure from her labor.
Ridiculed by the same ones that used her to temporarily find comfort.
Scarred by the tongues of the righteous.
She would flee as the sun would rise,
with her hands masking the shame in her eyes.
During the day, she's real, but at night, she's gone.
She was a fairy-tale,
always gone at 12,
reminds me of a certain character .,
Cinderella,
but she's more so Sin, than a regular Bella.
She deceived me every night,
Gave me the forbidden fruit of hers,
& caused me to Snow White - sleeping beauty - I snored hard.
Then she'll tuck our children in to sleep,
read them a bed time story, & go out to create her story of her own in another mans bed.
Like I said
During the day, she's real, but at night, she's gone.
The dream of our realities becoming one,
Became a wild fantasy.
Our two contrasting worlds
illustrated the pain of what might never be.
Despite my overflow of affection & blessings,
she still yearned for the way things used to be.
(Hm) you can bring a girl out of the wilderness,
But even in the promised land,
she'll still itch for how it was once.
A pretty young thing.
She was Bad.
Like a smooth criminal, she would jack hearts, like jackSONS.
She remained faithful in the light,
But somehow managed to moonwalk her way into her past,
when the light faded.
During the day, she's real, but at night, she's gone.
Like teenage love bound by distance.
Her love for me - with time falters,
But like matured , stirred by
But mines for her, always endures
I can't leave her.
I promised to love her
in sickness & in health.
in riches & without.
Though she slays me,
Though she constantly brings these scars to life,
Hers is worth saving.
Like 40 days & 40 nights - worth saving.
Like 15 shekels of silver - worth saving.
Like Spilled blood of an innocently crucified lamb., - worth saving.
you name it, I'll pay it.
I'll pay over & over. For what's already mine.
Yet I know, somewhere along the way,
after the honey moon fades, when the sun comes up,
She’ll leave, & abandon me.
She’ll be gone,
but somewhere in the palm of my hand,
beneath the crevice of her heart,
she's still always be real.
During the day, she's real, but at night, she's gone.
She's gone & she's real,
She's gone & she is real
She's gone & she Is-real.
She's, Gomer, She IS Israel,
She's Gomer, She's Israel,
She’s Gomer,
the prostitute wife of the Prophet Hosea,
who - despite the overflow of merciless love donned upon her,
still found a way down her
old alley-ways & past lifestyle.
She’s Israel,
the descendants of Abraham,
rescued from captivity,
yet still lost Faith and found ways to shackle themselves to Egypt.
She’s you,
the daughter of Eve, the Son of Adam,
who claims me with open doors,
by words in the midst of people,
but rejects me by actions behind closed doors.
You use harmonious tones
& eloquent words to charm me,
yet use the same tongue to
etch wounds on the backs of men.
You deny me through the dusk,
But suddenly remember my words at the dawn's crow.
You walk through red light districts
visiting cemeteries, to revive your past
yet neglect the blood of the tribute,
that visited cemeteries, just to redeem your past.
But sfill I love you more than yesterday.
My love for you is so thick, it's tangible,
it's transcends all logical understanding,
it's patient, it's kind, it graceful, it's meek.
It searches the depths of your heart,
through all chambers & crevice & loves you no less.
It's this new paradigm of affection,
embedded into the covenant,
that unravels the certainty of mercy & Salvation upon self-denial,
it’s the Gift of grace.
It's the present that verifies your presence.
It's the product of love.
So drop your rags behind
and let me bath you in an oil of gladness,
Surrender the ashes of my thorns,
and let me crown you with beauty.
Experience my love in first person.
Over & over again
and you’ll see that the depths of my love,
exceeds the width of your sins.
and what I loved most, she had so much soul.
Even as she aged,
You could see it on her face.
Her piercing eyes started it all,
it’s Lens were aesthetic;
From its iris to its cornea,
She had pupils that would school your memory,
and take you on a journey through time:
as if you never knew her.
But behind her placid exterior, lied a passionate loving core,
that makes indeed still waters run deep.
Her mask was well countoured,
But it was far from pure.
During the day, she's real, but at night, she's gone.
Her heart was willing, but her flesh was truly weak.
She hid her habits from me,
playing spades with my hearts,
like I was some joker,
yet she was well known around the clubs.
She worked long late nights, tirelessly, hardworking.
She persevered under the hardships of some un-fair rules (Pharaoahs)
Plagued by the insults of opportune men,
flogging their billed weapon against her body,
causing her to cause her to work harder,
to work faster,
they derived pleasure from her labor.
Ridiculed by the same ones that used her to temporarily find comfort.
Scarred by the tongues of the righteous.
She would flee as the sun would rise,
with her hands masking the shame in her eyes.
During the day, she's real, but at night, she's gone.
She was a fairy-tale,
always gone at 12,
reminds me of a certain character .,
Cinderella,
but she's more so Sin, than a regular Bella.
She deceived me every night,
Gave me the forbidden fruit of hers,
& caused me to Snow White - sleeping beauty - I snored hard.
Then she'll tuck our children in to sleep,
read them a bed time story, & go out to create her story of her own in another mans bed.
Like I said
During the day, she's real, but at night, she's gone.
The dream of our realities becoming one,
Became a wild fantasy.
Our two contrasting worlds
illustrated the pain of what might never be.
Despite my overflow of affection & blessings,
she still yearned for the way things used to be.
(Hm) you can bring a girl out of the wilderness,
But even in the promised land,
she'll still itch for how it was once.
A pretty young thing.
She was Bad.
Like a smooth criminal, she would jack hearts, like jackSONS.
She remained faithful in the light,
But somehow managed to moonwalk her way into her past,
when the light faded.
During the day, she's real, but at night, she's gone.
Like teenage love bound by distance.
Her love for me - with time falters,
But like matured , stirred by
But mines for her, always endures
I can't leave her.
I promised to love her
in sickness & in health.
in riches & without.
Though she slays me,
Though she constantly brings these scars to life,
Hers is worth saving.
Like 40 days & 40 nights - worth saving.
Like 15 shekels of silver - worth saving.
Like Spilled blood of an innocently crucified lamb., - worth saving.
you name it, I'll pay it.
I'll pay over & over. For what's already mine.
Yet I know, somewhere along the way,
after the honey moon fades, when the sun comes up,
She’ll leave, & abandon me.
She’ll be gone,
but somewhere in the palm of my hand,
beneath the crevice of her heart,
she's still always be real.
During the day, she's real, but at night, she's gone.
She's gone & she's real,
She's gone & she is real
She's gone & she Is-real.
She's, Gomer, She IS Israel,
She's Gomer, She's Israel,
She’s Gomer,
the prostitute wife of the Prophet Hosea,
who - despite the overflow of merciless love donned upon her,
still found a way down her
old alley-ways & past lifestyle.
She’s Israel,
the descendants of Abraham,
rescued from captivity,
yet still lost Faith and found ways to shackle themselves to Egypt.
She’s you,
the daughter of Eve, the Son of Adam,
who claims me with open doors,
by words in the midst of people,
but rejects me by actions behind closed doors.
You use harmonious tones
& eloquent words to charm me,
yet use the same tongue to
etch wounds on the backs of men.
You deny me through the dusk,
But suddenly remember my words at the dawn's crow.
You walk through red light districts
visiting cemeteries, to revive your past
yet neglect the blood of the tribute,
that visited cemeteries, just to redeem your past.
But sfill I love you more than yesterday.
My love for you is so thick, it's tangible,
it's transcends all logical understanding,
it's patient, it's kind, it graceful, it's meek.
It searches the depths of your heart,
through all chambers & crevice & loves you no less.
It's this new paradigm of affection,
embedded into the covenant,
that unravels the certainty of mercy & Salvation upon self-denial,
it’s the Gift of grace.
It's the present that verifies your presence.
It's the product of love.
So drop your rags behind
and let me bath you in an oil of gladness,
Surrender the ashes of my thorns,
and let me crown you with beauty.
Experience my love in first person.
Over & over again
and you’ll see that the depths of my love,
exceeds the width of your sins.