Now that the cliches have gone away
These are the only words I have left to say
And I will say them
With so much conviction
As I'm laying here on the floor of your kitchen
Saying that the ceiling
Is spinning too fast
It reminds me of your skin
How it peels and it cracks
I'm not complaining
I just worry on occasion
That we'll always stay unfinished like your basement
And we came of age at your dad's that night
Now you're somebody's mother
And you're some guy's wife
And you're some kid's stepmom
Repainting his houses
I hope you know you'll always
Have a place in my albums
While the poets write songs about the circle of life
I write another song with circles under my eyes
I guess I was never meant
To become one of them
And I'll never have the type of song that everybody sings
Like la da da
La da da
La da da
La da da
La da da
La da da
La da da da
Now that the cliches have gone away
These are the only words I have left to say
And I will say them with some much intention
As I'm sitting here on the stairs of your deck and I'm
Saying that the best days in life fly by
And when we kill time
It's like homicide
And the hearts that we hid
Under your bed in a shoebox
We watched this sleepy town wake up from a rooftop
Now that the first great one got away
It's just the last two of them that remain
So I'm not complaining
I just worry that I'm chasing
A part of me that's still unfinished
Like your basement
The poets write songs about the circle of life
I write another song about ending mine
I guess I was never meant
To become one of them
And I'll never the type of song that everybody sings
Like la da da
La da da
La da da
La da da
La da da
La da da
La da da da