Everything must go
Taking back sundayAnd moved all of my things
And most of your things, in
And honey I was proud of it
Honey I was proud of, you
You quote the Good Book,
When it's convenient
But you don't have the sense
No you don't have the sense
To talk this through to dawn
Instead you're slashing through the mud
Some boxes, that
Hand-me-down couch, and chair
That used to be at your church
We borrowed them from there
A cabinet record player with nothing but James Taylor
Two carpets from the corner store
Cover the hardwood floor
I'd be a fool to ask for more...
You quote the Good Book,
When it's convenient
But you don't have the sense
No you don't have the sense
To talk this through to dawn
Instead you're slashing through the mud
You quote the Good Book,
When it's convenient
But you don't have the sense
No you don't have the sense
To talk this through to dawn
Instead you're slashing through the mud
The love you had was good enough
The path that we were stuck between
But so much stuff must go tonight,
Oh Lord, what have I done?
You quote the Good Book,
When it's convenient
But you don't have the sense
No you don't have the sense
To talk this through to dawn
Instead you're slashing through the mud
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