Brown Boxes

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 thats where they will stay

I could never say,

I would never say,

"This is over"

Ive 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