For the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveI used to pray to a glossy page, a cutout from a magazineI was afraid of real things and I couldn't get to sleep to dreamMy mom came out and I was mean, I said, what a slap in the faceThen she got sick and lost her hair and then her partner died of the same thingMy mom survived but we lost John the day before New YorkLegalized love and the streets were full of young and oldAnd shiny new rings exchanged in goldFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveI kissed a girl and felt no shame with Katie on the radioI told my mom that we were the same, she said we had a ways to goAnd I've known love that's whiter than the place in the middle where it's painted redAnd I believe that fear is weaker than love, just like the magazine redFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveThis life is imperfect and love is a messI want the rights, *** it all, just like anybody else, just like everybody elseFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveFor the love, for the love, for the love, for the loveI used to pray to a glossy pageA cutout from a magazine