I've got this notion, that moving out is better, Than this commotion, if she complains I wont let her,
Tell me what to do and when she wants to argue ill remind her that were through
A late reminder, and post-it notes and markers, were it not kinder her black eye would be darker,
And all these brown boxes havent helped me move one bit in half-empty rooms they sit,
Stay that's where they will stay I could never say, I would never say, "This is over"
I've got this cupid humble from(?) Its pretty stupid, but none-the-less ill pack it and this boxcutters too dull, other wise id end it all, theres still boxes in the hall,
And stay, thats where they will stay, I could never place any other blame, And how could you even go, on living if its so, unintentional, I Lied to you