The cherub plays the trumpet in his spare time
when he’s not out working in the industry of love
Cupid is a giver, he doesn’t take love and gives his all
expecting nothing in return it’s really sad how he has so little
for himself
For the only one who holds sway over him is Aphrodite
herself
When he slumps upon his worn cloudlet after a hard working
day
It aint easy making people infatuated in every sort of way
He slides up into his room sparesly decorated a lone bed
upon the ground
And begins to play the same solemn tune the most beautiful
loving sound
With a melody and arrangement that could rip your soul in half
If you heard it you couldn’t help but keep falling head over
heels in love
Tragically for the winged merchant of love
All he feels is zip, zero, zilch nada
For destiny and the cruel hand of fate
have made it so he can never fall in love or even go on a cheap date
blessed are the mortals who live in their naïve dopamine euphoria
little do they know how boring the Gods must live
