When I was 35,000 feet above your house
I was taking a shit
And when I flew over the old walled city
where I bathed you in Saint Lawrence salt and dressed you in mist
I was drinking Scotch and laughing at Russell Crowe straining to sing
I do not know if you would think this appropriate
but I did.

It is important for our survival
that I am no longer riding on a camel with your nephew
or running laughing through the orchard, protecting you from bees
It is important for our survival
that I am no longer taking tea with your father
or going down on you behind the kitchen counter
- that you are in your shanty town, lonely with the sound of howling dogs
and I am in my glory, lonely with the sound of cheap applause

It is important for our survival
that we do not survive

I love you
I cannot abide you
and you can no longer abide in me