I packed my suitcase, for the road. And you're smiling. I mailed the debts that I have owed. And you're so nice. The winter clothes I gave away. And you're welcome. The moment I can no more stay. And you're in my way. Love. There used to be love between us. And you're in my way. My suitcase is heavy, I tighten my grip. And you're in my way. There used to be love, but I can no longer stay. And you're in my way. I square up my shoulder, I pull suitcase up. And you step up to me. I spin and it springs out, you're hit in the eye. And you step back, you're bleeding. I lift up the suitcase, again and again. And you lay in my way. To bring it back down on your head, if I may. And you lay in my wake. Love. There used to be love between us. I step out to freedom, you lay in my wake. The air is so nice. The sun's in my eye and the wind's in my face. It smells of blood. Love. I smell metal and rust, not chlorine and dust. It is nice.
