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Wednesday morning 'round five o' clock |
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The day begins, it never stops |
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We wake up to a little light peaking on through |
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Downstairs to the kitchen we go |
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Eat breakfast, sip a cup of |
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Joe On the counter there, |
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I left you a rose |
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Next to a note for the airport |
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Quickly eat and puff a smoke |
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The TV blares and the stove is broke |
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No need to talk or crack a joke |
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I packed your bags and we hit the road |
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Start the car and end the day |
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Knew this was coming 'round the end of |
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May But it's easier said than done |
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Made our bed and we had our fun but... [Hook] |
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She's leaving-leaving home |
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Home-home-home-home |
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She's leaving-leaving home |
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Home-home, she's leaving home [Verse 2:] |
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Paris, France, |
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Spain and |
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Milan Rides in |
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Venice, staring at the stars |
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Polaroid flicks and postcards in script |
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Written to her family that she will dearly miss |
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And the radio at night would play her favorite song |
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Can't hardly wait, |
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Westerberg has his charm |
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Two weeks alone and one week in |
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Prague Days turn to month and that's she want [Hook] [Verse 3:] |
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They say home is where the heart is |
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But what happens when you departing? |
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Excuse me miss but please you'll have to pardon |
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My behavior but |
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I'm just getting started |
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And I can say this with confidence |
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Or use my common sense to state the obvious |
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Beyond the compliments, we are the opposites |
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Attracted to each other, magnets for a mess |
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Wishing all the best but only getting stressed |
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Staying for the sex and fighting bout the checks |
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Issues addressed including your address |
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You leaving home on a flight direct |
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That I can't intersect but if |
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I can interject |
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It's not too late and |
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I would just say |
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That how we came together is a measure of fate |
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But I guess it can wait as we pull up to the gate [Hook] |
