Turnin' the Other Cheek

Turnin’ the Other Cheek

When he stole my girl,
I wanted revenge.
Never met the guy;
But I dreamed of beatin’ him.

I wonder what they’re up to these days:

I like to imagine they’re living in a scummy motel.
Smokin’ crack.
Dirty clothes hangin’ from their boney frames,
peekin’ through the blinds when the landlord comes round.

Then I woke up and realized,
he didn’t steal her.
She went on her own.
We didn’t have nothing anyway,
But I still wanted to whoop his ass.