Where am I going? Where I belong.
There was good and bad there all along.
Counter intuitive, wrong it seems.
Almost convinces me there's a meaning.
"But really I was thinking," I say with a smile,
"you really weren't there, all the while
I cried in the bathtub. Across all those states.
I made it this long without you for fucksakes.
Don't take this the wrong way, I love you, I'm thankful.
But I could think of four things more painful
than loosing you, like castration, being eaten alive,
being skinned over a long period of time,
and maybe freezing."
So don't tell me our meeting was fate.
I could never think of a concept more fake.
It's a happy coincidence, just a chance,
that we met and I got in your pants.