Please Don't Bring Home Any More Old Crutches!

[Spoken Word Old Female] "Please don't bring home any more old crutches." [Guitar intro] [Intro solo] (Verse 1) Every weekend, he's at the yard sale, Brings home treasures, old and frail, Boxes of records, rusty nails, But there's one thing that's tipping the scales. (Pre-Chorus) He thinks they're relics, but I see junk, House is filling up with all his funk, Time to put my foot down, make him see, There's one thing we don't need, and that's the key! (Chorus) Please don't bring home anymore old crutches! I'm tired of tripping over your funky finds, They're stacked up in the corners and driving me crazy, A museum of the past that's gone hazy, Please don't bring home anymore old crutches! [Guitar lead] (Verse 2) He's got a heart that's big and kind, But these old sticks are blowing my mind, Why can't he find something more refined? Just one more crutch and I'll unwind! (Pre-Chorus) He's a collector, but it's time to stop, House looks like an antique shop, Let's clear it out, set us free, No more clutter, no more debris! (Chorus) Please don't bring home anymore old crutches! I'm tired of tripping over your funky finds, They're stacked up in the corners and driving me crazy, A museum of the past that's gone hazy, Please don't bring home anymore old crutches! [Guitar interlude] (Bridge) We could have space for something new, Like a nice couch or a table too, But these old crutches, they've gotta go, I love you, but you need to know! [Guitar solo] (Chorus) Please don't bring home anymore old crutches! I'm tired of tripping over your funky finds, They're stacked up in the corners and driving me crazy, A museum of the past that's gone hazy, Please don't bring home anymore old crutches! [End]