Naive

Call me naive, but I'd rather believe,
than to go through life with doubt.
Unhurt but alone, some call it home,
it's a home I can live without.
So give me the hurt, I'll sleep in the dirt,
for no pain is ever too much.
Cause pain is only part, of what makes a broken heart,
first it has to be touched.
It's the unfounded fears, of potential tears,
that keeps a relationship at bay.
Fearing the sorrow, that may come tomorrow,
prevents you from loving today.
So alone you remain, just you and your pain,
safe from another heartache.
But half of the fun, of loving someone,
are the chances that you take.
For love has a history, a magic and a mystery,
and no secrets left untold.
Where once there was you, now there are two,
now you have someone to hold.
But if you must, go ahead and distrust,
me I'm going to believe.
For I know enough, to know there is pain with love,
and that's not being naive.