I can tell you anything, my friend
Except how I feel about you
′Cause I know you don't return itThough ain′t it obvious, my friend?
I'm not myself around you
But I like who I am turning into
Because I've been mi-ssing parts of me
But when I′m with you
I feel put back together
And I know I shouldn′t say it
But baby
Why don't you see it?
Is this not love?
Is this not love that I feel for you?
Do you feel it too?
Is this not love?
Is this not love that we′re feeling?
Is this not love?
Once more, Cesario
Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty
Tell her my love
But if she cannot love you, sir—
I cannot be so answered
Oh, I'm despondence
Dressed like confidence
A lamb in lion′s clothes
I wanna hold you so bad
And I'm not the one you chose
But sometimes
Your eyes catch mine
And I dare think it
Oh, I think you know it
Is this not love?
Is this not love that I feel for you?
Do you feel it too?
Is this not love?
Is this not love that we′re feeling?
Is this not love?
Say that some lady, as perhaps there is
Hath for your love as great a pang of heart
As you have for Olivia
You cannot love her, you tell her so
Must she not then be answered?
Make no compare between that love a woman can bare me
And that I owe Olivia
Aye, but I know—
What dost thou know?
Too well what love women to men may owe!
In faith, they are as true of heart as we
My father had a daughter loved a man
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman
I should your Lordship
And what's her history?
She never told her love
She pined in thought
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like Patience on a monument
Smiling at grief
Was not this love indeed?
But died thy sister of her love, my boy?
I know not
Will I die with-out saying a thing?
Will I wait here for years silently?
Or will I risk it all?
Lay bare my heart
And say it, baby
I gotta say it, baby
Is this not love?
Is this not love that I feel for you?
Oh, I know you feel it too
Is this not love?
Is this not love that we're feeling?
We′re feeling, I know we′re feeling it, yeah
But is this not love?
Is this not love?
Is this not love?
Is this not—
Sir, shall I to this lady?
To her in haste
Give her this jewel
There's for thy pains
No pains, Sir
I take pleasure in it
