"It's ok, I'm equally hurt" - that Herbert Grönemeyer sings of life.
I like him well: but of course this is arrant nonsense.
It does namely - fortunately - not quite evenly hurt like hell but sometimes and sometimes not, and everything in between as well (with five good bottles of wine and an even better woman in bed, for example.).
But the bard wanted us still say something: Life is pain-driven, as much as driving and driven, and not understand driven at least.
Love of course it helped: Therefore, one who can sing so bad, sing well.
