Fortunately
Well,
I could lose my head, I could go off cryin’ in the rain
I could spend my last dime for a miracle cure to ease the pain
I could become catatonic, or highjack a supersonic plane
I could drop to my knees, beg you please
Don’t let our love turn out to be vain
Fortunately,
you don’t mean that much to me
Fortunately, you just don’t mean that much to me
I’ve
seen men bend and break when they lost the women of their dreams
I’ve seen grown men cry, seen ‘em come all apart at the
seams
Heard their quiet desperation, but in their eyes, I could see the
screams
Stifled by their pride, but calling for the one thing that redeems
Fortunately,
you don’t mean that much to me
Fortunately, you just don’t mean that much to me
Well,
my back door is open, won’t you please push it shut on your
way out
Under the circumstances, there’s not all that much to talk about
You won’t see a melodrama; I won’t kill myself, or weep
and moan and shout
And I’m not the kind to sit in my room alone and pout
Fortunately,
you don’t mean that much to me
Fortunately, you just don’t mean that much to me
Words and music ©1998 by Robert Paul Shelter
All Rights Reserved
