What iz luv really?
Iz it that weak in the knees feeling
I get when my heart's reeling
From the texts and emails he sends me everday?

Or iz it the thought of him calling
Each day as I keep falling
More for him in every kind of way?

Iz luv the stuff our grandparents have shown us
How growing old together is less about luv and more about trust?

Or iz it that neighborly luv we see from folks passin thru
Stoppin in for a quick visit and playing kissy poo?

Or iz luv the fact that i pick up his dirty draws without complaint
And realize that tho they're dirty, hell, i'm no saint

So iz luv the fact that he puts up with me and I put up with him
Even tho some days i want to bust out that door on a whim

No...luv is the fact that I stay thru it all
Thru the hurt, the fights and the apall

But luv is also the fact that he knows me inside and out
And without a doubt...luv is the fact that i don't pout
On the days when luv just ain't enough...