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Iâve got your picture in my closet
In the bottom of my box of random, useless junk
So I can see your face every time that I canât help
But need a rusty, broken tool to fix my shelf
Where the story of our tragic love sits dusty and unread
Like a voice collecting dust inside my head
Oh, how I love these precious memories when theyâre dead
And I know that you didnât mean to hurt me
When you said goodbye
But baby, in all of my pride Iâve got to admit
That I just cried and cried and cried for joy
Iâve got your letter in a special spot
Where I can read it anytime I think I ought to
Pull it from the garbage and tape it back together again
And your words will look like puzzles just like theyâve always been
I want and I need and I care and I love, love, your just everywhere
Your poetry is beautiful
Source: LYBIO.net
But baby canât you see
That it just made never made a word of sense to me
And I know that you didnât mean to hurt me
When you left me alone
But as I listened to the lovely silence more
Iâve got to admit this place never felt so much like home
Iâve got all of our memories packed in a bag
All the sweat, sad, stupid memories weâve ever had
Theyâre gonna start a fire in the chimney, baby
Gonna burn this house to the ground
All my picture frames and all your stupid games
Iâm gonna watch the flames and celebrate