"A Date With Destiny" by Guttermouth is a satirical and sarcastic song that uses exaggerated and dark humor to convey its message. The song explores themes of obsession, objectification, and an unhealthy attachment to someone. The lyrics start by expressing the singer's intense attraction to the person they are looking at. They have a desire to "taste" their face, which can be interpreted metaphorically as wanting to possess or consume them. This fascination and desire to possess the person is further emphasized when the singer talks about ripping their own heart out and shoving it back in line. The lyrics also touch upon the idea of the person being valuable ("worth your weight in gold") and objectifying them with phrases like "the gorgeous ring in your nose." The singer mentions going to a show or a rodeo together, possibly suggesting a desire for a superficial and entertainment-based relationship. The chorus repeats the line "Every time I look at your face, it makes me want to taste it," emphasizing the singer's fixation and obsession. The next verse continues with the theme of the person being rare and delicious, further objectifying them. The lyrics take a darker turn in the bridge, where the singer mentions the importance of the person's role in their life, suggesting that without them, life will be difficult. The line "Who's gonna plow my field, I loved you and you're a veal" adds a macabre twist, likening the person to a farm animal to highlight the singer's twisted perspective. The closing lines of the song, "When the people want to buy and the market's high, just kiss your ass goodbye," is a cynical take on relationships, implying that once the initial attraction fades, the person will be left with nothing. Overall, "A Date With Destiny" explores themes of unhealthy attachment, objectification, and the consequences of pursuing relationships driven solely by physical attraction. It uses dark humor and exaggerated language to satirize these themes and provoke thought about the nature of love and obsession.
