Lyrics
I put all my books in a box
To put them in a concrete cube and
Underneath more boxes, hidden behind boxes
I'll get in one too
I just threw out another gift
I know it had a bit of thought but
Mary, we won't talk soon, I have no use for Crocs now
I have no use for gifts
They're gonna be piled
I'm gonna be a pack rat
That's gonna shit
It's hard to empty out my drawers
It's hard to empty out my home now
I'm a vacant home for the last spark of a soul
Gonna get drunk one last time
It's gonna get sadder, it's gonna get weirder
Until I'm gone, until I'm gone
It's gonna get sadder, it's gonna get weirder
Until I'm gone
Now it's kind of what I want
But regardless, thanks a lot
For letting me stay on your futon
It's gonna get sadder, it's gonna get weirder
Until I'm gone, until I'm gone
It's gonna get sadder, it's gonna get weirder
Until I'm gone
Now it's kind of what I want
But regardless, thanks a lot
For letting me stay on your futon
I'm gone now, I don't know what I want
But regardless, thanks a lot
For letting me stay on your futon
I put all my books in a box
To put them in a concrete cube and
Underneath more boxes and hidden behind boxes
I'll get in one too