I don’t get many things right the first time
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stum­bles and falls
Brought me here

And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it every­day
And I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest

What if I’d been born fifty years before you
In a house on a street where you lived?
Maybe I’d be out­side as you passed on your bike
Would I know?

And in a white sea of eyes
I see one pair that I rec­og­nize
And I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest

I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you

Next door there’s an old man who lived to his nineties
And one day passed away in his sleep
And his wife; she stayed for a cou­ple of days
And passed away

I’m sorry, I know that’s a strange way to tell you that I know we belong
That I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest

–Ben Folds