Brown Boxes

I've got this notion,
that moving out is better,
Than this commotion,
if she complains I wont let her,

Tell me what to do
and when she wants to argue
ill remind her that were through

A late reminder,
and post-it notes and markers,
were it not kinder her black eye would be darker,

And all these brown boxes havent helped me move one bit
in half-empty rooms they sit,

Stay thats where they will stay
I could never say,
I would never say,
"This is over"

Ive got this cupid
humble from(?)
Its pretty stupid, but none-the-less ill pack it
and this boxcutters too dull,
other wise id end it all,
theres still boxes in the hall,

And stay, thats where they will stay,
I could never place any other blame,
And how could you even go,
on living if its so, unintentional,
I, Lied, to, you