Isn't it strange?
All these minuscule things,
That seem to suffocate,
Seem to drown me,
In these unseemly times.

Isn't it strange?
When you look at me,
I can't even breathe,
As you terribly,
Oh so terribly,
Horribly repulse me.

Isn't it strange?
Although you make me sick,
I must know what you said,
Because maybe,
Just maybe,
You are talking about me.

Isn't it strange?
That somehow,
I seem to think differently,
Then I did before,
Because for some strange reason,
I find myself being drawn nearer to you.

Isn't it strange?
Aren't these feelings strange?
Isn't this whole meaningless life strange?

Isn't it strange?
I don't know,
But I no longer care,
Because I have found you,
The true you,
And you are all I need.