All language subtitles for iZombie.S03E03.BDRip.X264-REWARD

Previously on iZombie...

Katty Kupps,
Center for Disease Control.

She's the absolute last person who
would conclude there were, you know...

We start our own brain business.

- I love it.
- Yeah, you do!

You're thinking too small.

I can't stop thinking
about Peyton and Blaine.

And it's driving me crazy.

The side effect of Cure One,
the cure Major took is death.

Or he can take Cure Two...

And lose all his memories.

What if I could come
up with a formula

that could reverse memory loss?

Guess who found a job,
a job where no one cares

if you've been publicly accused
of being a serial killer?

Jackpot
spotted in south corridor.

Zulu-13, you're 20 meters out.

Let's save some hostages.

Roger for Zulu-13.

Ready to breach.

All right. Good job.

Lilywhite.

There's one thing men under
my command cannot do.

What is that one thing?

Survive a bullet
to the head, sir.

Black Squad, hit the showers.

White Squad,

give me five miles
before you do the same.

Lunchtime. Get 'em
while they're goopy.

Just new to the processed kind.

You better
get familiar with 'em.

Yum, yum.

It's like if someone ate
brains and old yogurt

and then mama-birded them
into a tube.

You should put a note about the
texture in the suggestion box.

What the hell?

Who stacks plates
on top of glasses?

I guess I shouldn't be
complaining about the tubes.

You know, it's probably better
to be on white noise

than teen-angst brain
while I'm tracking Natalie.

And I think I can find her.

If I can just figure out who all of her
old clients were and where they live.

There's actually one person
who might have that information.

Blaine.

Oh. No, no, no, no.

We are not playing the
"murder everyone" game.

We're playing my dance game.

Did we lose a bet?

I bring the Chinese food. You
play my game. That's the deal.

♪ To understand the reason

♪ Why we carry on this way

How'd you even land this gig?

The last guy died up there.
Literally.

One minute he's singing
Hey Jude,

the next, he's stroking out
during the "na-na-na-nas."

I handled the funeral, and the
owner of this place shows up.

I was singing Hallelujah,
the Jeff Buckley tune.

- Hmm.
- He liked what he heard.

One thing led to another.
Here I am.

A star is born.

While we're on
the subject of the dead,

I got a call
about my dad's will.

You mentioned you received
a sizable settlement.

Who called?

He said he was my dad's lawyer.

Wanted to meet about
some problem tomorrow.

- Wouldn't say what.
- Well, it sounds shady.

Is there any chance
you could come?

I wouldn't wanna get
taken advantage of,

you know,
especially with the fuzziness.

I'll say to you what I say
to all of my clients.

What's in it for me?

When you hear a noise,

just accept it,

and then let it drift away.

And now,
if that works for noise,

what other unwanted intrusions

can we choose to let go?

At your own pace,
open your eyes.

I'll see you next week.

Namaste.

Namaste.

Isn't he amazing?

- Namaste.
- Namaste.

"When you realize
how perfect everything is",

"you will tilt your head back
and laugh at the sky."

That's the last thing
Topher said to me.

It is so true. Life is perfect.

- Right. Miss...
- Ladybird.

This is a murder
investigation, so...

I'll be damned.

All right, Ladybird,

I'm told you found the body.

I opened this morning.

There he was
sitting on his Zafu cushion.

He died doing what he loved.

- Sitting?
- Meditating.

Topher was a powerful
mindfulness teacher.

Everyone loved him.

Doesn't seem like
everyone loved him.

Did he have any exes?
Angry clients?

Topher said he only had
one enemy.

The inability to accept
the gift of change.

Got it.

Thank you for your help.
Don't leave town.

Bloody, this one.

Zen guru beaten to death with
a Buddha statue. Feels personal.

Or a tragic misunderstanding
of "Open your mind."

Look over here.

Forensics will be able to ID the
make of the shoe from the tread.

Size 12.

Already measured it.

Detective.

This gentleman sleeps in
a grate in the alley out back.

He said he saw a man sprint out the
back door around the time of the murder.

Said the man ran into
the alley carrying a bag.

Uncool, man.

Can you describe
this man you saw?

Tall, I guess. Uh...

Dark hair, scruffy. Dumb face.

Any idea what he was carrying?

- Trash.
- What makes you say "trash"?

It was in a trash bag.

Take him to the precinct.
Sober him up.

Have him talk
to a sketch artist.

Let's check out this alley.

Damn. What in God's name?

If he ditched his trash bag,
this is where he'd do it.

The only dumpster in the alley,

and it had to be
outside a seafood place.

Look, peeking out from the fish
heads and the lobster shells.

- Is that...
- A trash bag.

You could have one
of the uniformed guys do it.

I hated the detectives who
did that when I was in uniform.

You're a good man,
Clive Babineaux.

- That better be tartar sauce.
- Ew.

What is it?

Bloody shoes.

The sole matches the pattern
from the crime scene.

Let's get you
a barrel of wet wipes,

and then we can go
find our Cinderella.

Now, how about I go shower,
and you have a little lunch?

Almond milk chai latte for you,

and the strong stuff for me.

Teatime.

Got it backwards.

How do you drink almond milk?

Mmm.

Yummy, yummy.

I wonder if Topher here
died with any regrets.

Things he wished
he did differently.

Forks in the road where he felt
he chose the wrong, uh, prong.

Did Peyton mention whether...

Stop. No more.

Talk to her. Not to me.

My kingdom
for a handicapped ramp.

Dr. Kupps, welcome back.

Wow.

Look at that suitcase.

My hotel wouldn't let me
check in yet,

and, please, Ravi.
Call me Katty.

- I'm not your boss anymore.
- Huh.

Oh, hey, sweetie, would you
mind grabbing me a diet soda?

Anything caffeinated.

Yep, sure, Katty.

Whew. Rough way to go.

Death and life are but sides
of a single coin.

In a way, he's still alive
and always will be.

I take it there's been a
development on the Super Max case?

It looks like you plan
to stay a while.

Interesting developments indeed.

Two years ago, a private plane
crashes in a field in North Dakota.

Six dead.

The black box showed nothing
was wrong with the plane.

It just dropped from the sky.

During the investigation, the local medical
examiner reaches out to us at the CDC

because he's discovered
something odd.

One of the bodies
belonged to a young woman,

and just like the
Super Max body,

she had human brains
in her digestive tract,

and her dead flesh
seemed to indicate

she'd died months before
she ever got on that plane.

Guess where
the plane originated?

- Seattle.
- Yes.

So now Seattle is ground zero
for this investigation.

I hope it's okay if I use
your morgue when I need a lab.

Sure.

Hi, Jacob.
I'm heading to my 1:30.

I'm on my cell
if anything comes up.

Surprise.

Yes.

- You're leaving.
- I am.

I was hoping to talk.

Well, I'll be back in the
afternoon. Can we do this then?

It won't take a minute.

- Please.
- Sure.

Right, the short version.

Uh... I'm saying this.

I'm sorry.

I haven't been a good friend.

I've wanted to be, but...

- Look, intellectually...
- I know you didn't do anything wrong.

We weren't together when you
and Blaine had your...

You didn't know who he was.

So it's my stupid macho problem.

It's just...

Any time my brain
isn't otherwise occupied,

these little movies
begin playing in there, yeah?

What kind of movies?

Uh...

Adult movies
of Blaine and you doing stuff.

I'm going to say this once.

When I met Blaine, he was
this man who was brave enough

to stand up to Mr. Boss
when no one else would.

That's how I knew him.

After I found out who he was,
after we did "stuff"...

I've beaten myself up enough
on my own.

I don't need your help.

And this should be obvious,
but I'm gonna say it anyways.

Your opinion in this matter
is irrelevant.

What did you
come here for, Ravi?

Did you come here
to say you're sorry?

Or were you hoping maybe
I'd apologize to you?

- Hello?
- Hey.

Are you almost here?

Yeah, I got hung up.

Got it.

I guess I will tread water.
See you soon.

Gentlemen, I am so sorry
about the delay.

Uh, my attorney will
be arriving tout de suite.

In the meantime,
can I offer you a drink, or...

Snack?

Nothing for me.

Water.

Room temperature.

In a glass.

So word is you lost your memory.

I did.

It was the darnedest thing.

I looked under all my
couch cushions, in my car...

I'm glad to see your sense of
humor made it across the Lethe.

- The what?
- The Lethe.

It's a river
in the land of the dead.

One sip, and you just forget
who you were when you were alive.

Perhaps we could get down
to the business at hand.

Sorry to make everyone wait.

You're supposed to be dead.

And lo, the stone was
rolled away from the tomb.

Blaine, um...
This man is your father.

Well,

I'm starting to see
the problem with the will.

I'm sorry. I thought you were
abducted by the Chaos Killer.

Oh, I was, but I escaped.

I'm crafty.

Well, hot damn!

Dad's back!

- Who's pumped?
- Everyone, I'm sure.

Now, the will,
as I'm sure you'll agree,

is no longer valid,
so if you'd just sign that...

Ah, say no more.

It's your money, after all.

And it's a small price to pay
for this family reunion.

Now, once you get back on your
feet, I think that we should...

Well, geez, you tell me.

What is it
we used to do together?

I know I'd love to hear some
stories, look at some photos.

I can tell you a story
right now if you'd like.

You were 11 or so.

Your mother and I
were turning the house over

looking for these
earrings she loved.

Then the phone rings.

It's a woman we don't know.
She's very upset.

She tells us that
her son's admitted

that he sold my wife's
earrings in a pawn shop.

You'd stolen them and roped some
teenage drug addict into selling them.

So precocious!

That was the day
I admitted to myself

that the sight of you
made me sick.

Go. Get out.

Gladly.

I've got what's worth having.

I got your text.

You took a while.

I was taking a sound bath.

What is a...

You know what? Doesn't matter.

What matters is that you're
sure that this guy you ate

is legitimately a
Zen'd-out, anti-materialistic,

"what's the sound of one
hand clapping" kind of guy.

Are you kidding?

He's so legit, I don't even have to
cultivate mindful self-compassion.

Then this might surprise you.

He used to be
a venture capitalist.

Made a fortune in software.

And just days before
Topher's first big score,

one of his two VC partners,
Mitch Davis,

got busted trying to sell
suitcases full of cocaine.

A powerful metaphor for the
spiritual baggage he had yet to shed.

That metaphor
got him five years.

And according to this story,

Topher took on Mitch's share of the
investment and doubled his fortune.

Motive!

So where's this Mitch guy now,
still in jail?

He got out. Two weeks ago.

- Whoa.
- Mmm-hmm.

I just reached out
and asked Mr. Davis

to join us tomorrow for a chat.

Maybe he matches the sketch
from the homeless man.

There's no sketch.

Harris says he turned his back
to get the guy some coffee.

Turned back, he was gone.

If he was ever there
to begin with.

I mean cosmically.

Like how none of us
are really just here,

we're on multiple planes of...

I'm going back to my sound bath.

This is Zulu-13.

I'm 20 meters from jackpot,
ready to infiltrate.

Roger.

Got to watch your six, newb.

Lilywhite, along with
"right in front of you,"

what's another place
that bad guys might be?

Right behind me, sir.

That is correct.

Now, what would be
a good reminder?

Five miles, White Team.

Do it!

Know what all those guys did
before they were zombie mercenaries?

I don't know, Justin.
Play villains in '80s movies?

They were human mercenaries,
and before that, they were Army.

The only thing that's changed
for them are the rations.

You and me?

We're just the fellas
who wound up here.

Or you are a lifelong soldier
for hire, and you just suck at it.

What did you do before?

You've heard about the July
4th Fillmore-Graves retreat,

where the whole company
zombified?

- Yeah.
- Yeah. I was the DJ.

Oh, that may be the saddest
thing I've ever heard.

Yeah, well,
not much call for a DJ

in the Fillmore-Graves
day-to-day operations,

so here I am, zombie mercenary.

There's a learning curve.

You'll get there.

Well, this is unexpected.

It is, right?

Oh, yeah. Can I come in?

Yeah.

You're looking a little wan.

You need something with a kick?

Do you remember a zombie
named Natalie?

I've heard her name.

Some of my customers
ask about her.

She was a call girl.

You scratched her and forced
her to service your clients.

Maybe my dad had a point.

Now I think
one of her old clients

is holding her against her will.

I've got one lead.

This phone number.

I'll take a look. Alone.

You stay here.

Do you remember what it felt
like before you took the cure?

When you were dying?

I don't.

Probably wasn't good.

Here you go.

Name and address.

Don't hurt him, okay?
This is my livelihood.

Thank you.

Just a heads up. He ordered
double brains last week,

so he might be on vacation.

He's not here?

Just a few days extra.

A week max. Not too long. Whoa.

Patience not your strong suit?

I may not have that long.

It's a work in progress,
so use your imagination.

Pretend we're a couple
of zombie dudes

looking to chill,
get our drink on.

The exposed brick is good.

Tufted leather banquettes
would go nicely.

I was thinking a pinball
machine next to the crapper.

We need a name.

One that would assure customers

they would never encounter
pinball or the word "crapper."

I was thinking,
maybe Whitey Bulger's.

Needs work.

The only humans in here
should be appetizers.

We need a way to tell
man from zombie.

I was thinking...

I don't think you should start
sentences that way anymore.

What if

we had a would-be customer
stick his hands in the mail slot,

took a nail gun,

we drove a nine-penny
through his palm?

Sure, it stings a bit,
but if he refuses,

we know he's way too alive
to come in here.

Needs work.

And exhale.

What's going on?

The good news is the fluid
currently in his lungs is draining.

But it will return
with a vengeance.

And he won't be able
to fight it.

- How long do I have?
- Weeks.

Maybe. Then you'll
have to take the cure,

memory loss and all.

Identity's just a hallucination

of the unenlightened
mind anyway.

Makes total sense.

It's not a lost cause yet.

My serum to reverse
memory loss is ready.

Well, hypothetically.

Human memory is more
complex than a rat's.

I have no way to test it.

There's never a chimp suffering from
dementia around when you really need one.

There is one way.

Blaine.

But I doubt he'll take the
risk. He doesn't trust us.

But he trusts Peyton. I could
get her to ask him to hear us out.

I have to go.

No. Listen to me. They'retheones
that can't even get on NASDAQ.

Off the phone,
please, Mr. Davis.

Oh, well, if you say so.

Yeah, I do.

Listen, listen. I'm telling you!

Margins the size
of Kate Upton's fun bags.

Let me circle back.

So, Topher.

Toph the Loaf murdered. Bummer.

Why am I here?

You are the deceased's
former business partner.

"Partners"? Generous.

I was kind of the brains
of the outfit.

Not enough brains
to dodge a coke bust.

"Coke bust." Makes it
sound like I was a junkie.

I was moving product.

Much cooler.

You mind?

We know the killer
had large feet.

Maybe we can cross you off
the list of suspects.

Why not?

So you were moving product?

To raise money
for a business venture.

One that hit big, I might add.

I found that deal, by the way.
I almost got rich.

But you didn't.
You went to jail.

And two weeks after you get out,

the man who profited off your
incarceration winds up dead.

Yeah. That sucked.
But I'm over it.

He's a seven and a half.

Our witness said he was
tall with dark hair anyway.

I'm sorry to disappoint.

But my motto these days?

"You've got to sell the past
and buy the future."

Yet both are illusions.

Like the fool,
you stare at nothing.

So true.

So the newspaper said Topher got
clipped in his mindfulness studio.

What angle do you suppose
he was working?

Topher and Devon. Buddhists?

Please.

I'm sorry.

Who's Devon?

Uncurl the toes, please.

Twelve.

Open wide.

So Mitch went to jail,

and you and Topher
struck it rich. What then?

I couldn't understand why I
wasn't happy, so I spent my money.

Hoping things, material
possessions, hallucinogenics,

would bring me peace.
They didn't.

So after you spent all your money,
Topher got you into all this?

The other way around.

After I hit rock bottom,
I discovered mindfulness.

Topher saw how my life
improved and it inspired him.

These look familiar?

Yes. They're mine.

- You're sure?
- The two-tone laces.

Absolutely.
Where did they turn up?

They were found in a dumpster a
block over, covered in Topher's blood.

You know, a few nights
before Topher's murder,

I walked into my home,

and I had the sense
that someone had broken in.

"The sense"?

The positive energy had
been completely obstructed.

I know how that sounds.

Ladybird.

You remember what I said about
my house a few nights ago?

You mean when your positive
energy was obstructed?

That's not a thing.

You're doing it right now.

Give us a second.

There is no way it's him.

He just admitted these shoes splattered
with the victim's blood are his.

We know the murderer
wore those shoes.

So this whole Zen thing's
an act?

Look at him.

We need our homeless guy.

Do a line-up,
see if he ID's him.

We know he lives nearby.

You're up for a stakeout?

Nothing.

Guess where my girl was.

You should do that
in a clown mask next time.

I might actually
have a heart attack.

- Guess.
- Guess where your girl was.

I need some help here.

The plane crash girl,

the one with the brains
in her digestive tract.

Guess where she was the day
before she got on that plane.

No idea.

The boat party.

The one
where all the people died.

Were you point on that?

Hmm. I was in Seattle by then,

but I was down
the food chain a bit.

Bodies were missing brains.

The CSI's claimed
fish got to them, but now...

Plane crash girl
and the Super Max body

both had brains
in their stomachs.

Do you think there could be some
connection between the two massacres?

I mean,
anything's possible, but...

You examined the bodies from
the boat party, didn't you?

I did. Several.

And?

And...

Did any of them have brains
in their digestive systems?

No.

No, they didn't.

Shoot.

I thought I was on to something.

Let's go have dinner.

There's something else
I wanna bounce off you.

We are on a stakeout,
and your eyes are closed.

You know, you'd be calmer
if you lived in the moment.

I am.

This moment is about finding
a witness to help solve a case.

The lightness and clarity of
mindfulness will help us solve the case.

Oh, yeah, when?

You haven't had any visions.

Name one thing this brain's
done to help catch the killer.

Can we get over this fixation
of who did what, when?

It's a murder investigation.

Filling with sunlight.

Detective Babineaux?

I just got a report from a woman about
a pimp yelling at a hooker in a car.

Meaning us?

You have been snippy with me.

Yeah, well, she said she'd been
watching you two parked here all night.

- We're on a stakeout.
- Oh, all right.

She watched all night?

You really seemed to be giving her a good
tongue-lashing. You understand my confusion.

Cookie?

We're looking for a homeless man

who says
he sleeps in this alley.

Three nights ago...

No homeless man
sleeps in this alley.

I wouldn't allow it.

In any case,
a homeless man told us that...

Not one who sleeps in my alley.

Regardless of where
the homeless man sleeps,

he says he saw a man
racing down your alley

three nights ago,
around 10:00 p.m.

This other man is our suspect.

He threw a garbage bag in the
dumpster below your window.

Oh, wait. The homeless man!

I did see him run down this way.

It wasn't the homeless man
who ran down the alley.

It was the suspect.

I watched him
from that chair right there.

I thought it was strange.

Usually, they take things
out of the dumpster.

Our wino lied?

Why?

Because he didn't
witness the murder.

- He committed the murder.
- Oh, my...

Oh...

- Yeah!
- Yes!

Whoo!

Nice work, son.

Lilywhite. Heads up.

J- Dog.

Hey.
You ever have the real deal?

The uncut stuff?

- Never.
- Hmm.

You know, I have a hookup.

All the cool kids are doing it.

Major? I got your text!

Oh!

No, by all means.

This is the highlight
of my week.

Liv, this is Justin,
my friend from work.

Justin, this is Liv.

- Hey, there.
- Hi.

Your text freaked me out.
"Get over here stat."

We're on Zumba instructor brain.

That explains a lot.

I hope you're a zombie,

or the snacks here may have
been more than you bargained for.

- And we saved you some.
- I can't.

Oh, boo.

That said, I don't need Zumba
brain to kick your asses.

You start growing that beard once you
figured out how you were going to kill

your old business partner,
Topher?

A witness saw you hiding the
bloody shoes in the dumpster.

Shoes you stole
from Devon's house,

totally obstructing
his positive energy.

Anyway, this witness just
picked you out of a photo lineup.

Oh, and there's this.

The malt liquor bottle you
were chugging when we first met.

It was still in the trash
where I put it,

and guess whose DNA
is all over it?

You're in a lot
of trouble here, Mitch.

I'm waiting for my lawyer
to get here.

Did you know
they log your mail in prison?

That's how we know
that two years ago,

you received a letter
from Topher.

We found the original
on Topher's laptop.

"Mitch.
I'm writing to apologize."

"You deserve to know that I'm the
one who turned you in to the DEA."

He goes on to explain that,
in his previous life,

he was blinded
by the pursuit of money.

If he'd really been sorry, he
could've paid me my millions.

If you didn't have
the money to invest,

they weren't really
your millions. Were they?

Topher's letter said Devon tried
to convince him not to do it.

So why'd you try to frame
that poor brain-fried soul?

I'll wait for my lawyer.

You know, it's actually
kind of a sweet gig.

I get to pick my own songs,
play a little piano.

So you're a lounge singer now?

Yeah, I guess.

All right, the gang's all here.

Did I miss the big news?

Ravi was waiting for you.

Uh...

I've developed a serum
that could potentially undo

the memory loss that accompanies
the second zombie cure.

It could take several days
to know if it works.

If it does, you'll get
your memories back,

which would also mean we have
17 doses of a viable cure.

And what if it doesn't work?

The most likely risk is it
doesn't do anything at all.

- And the less likely risks?
- There could be side-effects.

- Could it kill him?
- It probably won't.

But it could?

I'm sorry, gang,
but I've got to pass.

Fear of death is the lock
of humanity's prison.

I'm not afraid of dying, Liv.
I'm afraid of remembering.

Find a guinea pig who wants
to remember his old life, huh?

It's a chance to atone.

"Atone"?

If you won't take the serum,

the first person to take
that risk will be Major,

who, let's be honest, is only
a zombie because of you.

That's not who
Blaine is anymore.

You're asking him to be the guinea
pig, so Major doesn't have to.

She's right.

When I'm dying,
I'm going to take the cure.

Then, when my memories start
fading, I'm going to take the serum.

See, 'cause I'm going to want
to remember my old life.

I understand why you may not.

A fundamentally decent person
would realize you owe him.

- Ravi!
- Let's take a breath.

Try to visualize ourselves
in one another's shoes.

Okay.

I'll try that.

I'm Blaine.

I killed people for money.

- That's not what I...
- I tortured you.

- I literally killed you.
- Ravi, enough!

- Open your eyes, Peyton!
- Oh, my eyes are wide open.

Why are you being such a dick?

It isn't obvious?

It's because
I'm in love with you.

I'll do it.

Shoot me up, Doc.

Thank you.

You don't have to do this.

I know.

Do it.

Be you zombie, or be you man?

Just get on with it.

Ghost pepper, 500 times
spicier than straight jalapeño.

A human bites into that,
the whole block'll know.

Sold.

Lots of weird-ass peppers.

We can do tasting flights and...

Oh.

Hey.

This our new muscle?

I wouldn't say ours.

The club will offer brains
of one's choosing.

For a price.

Dino's specialty
is acquisitions.

Dope.

As for our establishment's name,

I give you the Scratching Post.

So?

That'll do, pig.

What about our customers
who aren't crazy rich?

'Cause I've got to say,
having Dino here whack a guy

every time you want lunch
is super one-percent.

For our less high-end clientele,

I bought a hospital
in Bangladesh.

It has one of highest
mortality rates in the world.

- Love it.
- Shipments will be arriving weekly.

So I figure, next week,

I'll approach
Blaine's customers,

let them know
there's a new supplier,

a new club, new ladies...

No.

- No...
- No.

Let's get up and running,
work the kinks out first.

We don't have any customers yet.

Make some then. Go to clubs.

Find those dimwits paying $500
for bottle service.

Do like our name says
and scratch them.

Sweet.

You bet your ass, it's sweet.

Now run out and grab me an
espresso while I tackle decor.

Why can't the big guy do it?

Dino suffers from
small-fiber neuropathy.

His feet hurt.

Ice-blended.

- Hey.
- You love me?

I do.

Then why have you been
so awful to me?

Why haven't you
been there for me?

I was held at gunpoint, Ravi.
I thought I was going to die,

and yet somehow
you've made this about you,

about your pride,
about your jealousy.

I know. And I'm... I'm so sorry.

Pride. I'm done with it.

Look, it's only been
a liability.

I was so excited
that we were back together.

So was I.

Are you drunk?

Like, a little.

Don't you get it?

The one thing that's stopping
this from happening is you.

Understood.

Then... Then I am...
I am officially stopping...

I'm stopping this from

stopping.

Screw it.

Is there someone here?

Wait, Peyton, please.

Oopsie.

The way we left things,
I didn't think you...

Don't!

♪ Love will abide

♪ Take things in stride

♪ Sounds like good advice

♪ But there's no one at my side

♪ 'Cause I've done
everything I know

♪ To try and make you mine

♪ And I think I'm gonna love you