Casual Encounters

Why do I die?

Is it your fault, or mine?

I sit and wonder why

Just off the rhyme

Maybe it's you

The judgment, the hate

Deep inside will brew

Determining my fate

Or maybe it's me

Always a waste

Always will be

A truth I have faced

No, it's definitely you

Yeah you, with the gun

Whose wife I did screw

Now nowhere left to run

She just caught my eye

It was her hair that made me

But I guess this is why I die

For fucking the bearded lady