I keep falling, maybe half the time, maybe half the time. But it's all the rage back home.

Who will love?

Who will love someone that cries when she's listening to some kind of music.

Who will love someone who falls for the curbs and sees the beauty in a piece of paper blown by the wind?

 

Who will love someone so broken and lost, someone with many fears.

 Who will love a human being like me? Not you, I know.