I've got this notion,

that moving out is better,

Than this commotion,

if she complains I won't let her,



Tell me what to do

and when she wants to argue

I'll remind her that we're 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 haven't helped me move one bit

in half-empty rooms they sit,



Stay thats where they will stay

I could never say,

I would never say,

"This is over"



I've got this cupid

hummel from Wool 'n Sackett

Its pretty stupid, but none-the-less I'll pack it

and this boxcutters too dull,

other wise I'd end it all,

theres still boxes in the hall,



And stay, that's where they will stay,

I could never place any other blame,

And how could you even go,

on moving if its so, unintentional,

I'd like to know