Our love is doomed, my love. It isn’t fair
But we are just too different, I and you.
I am what people take to go somewhere;
You are what people dream of going to.
I am the handy bridge across the pits—
I’m someone’s perfect shortcut through the weeds.
You are somebody’s penthouse at the Ritz—
The promised land to which each freeway leads.
The only reason that you’ll stay with me
Is because I can get you where you’re going;
And I will stay with you so I can be
A river bank, and not a river flowing,
Till what we are decrees our separation:
I’m someone’s road—you’re someone’s destination.