Helping you move, my car's all full of your sh**
For two weeks, I've been trying to cry to convince myself you're still worth it
But I can't feel a thing now beyond the tired pull of some hollow heat in my chest
Two-hour drive after work at night and now I'm at your parents' house; they're outside talking about how you were as a kid; your mom won't look at me that much so I'll sit
So I'll sit
So I think I'm heading out because I'm tired and all I can think about is getting this over with
(On the dark gra** on your front lawn, we say goodnight
Driving back to Akron, I'm starting to realize that this would be the last time)