Wednesday morning roun 5 o’ clock 
The day begins it never stop 
We wake up to 
little light peaking on [bad word] 
Downstairs to the kitchen we go 
Eat breakfast 
Sip a cup of joe 
On the counter there 
I left you a rose 
Next to a note for the airport 
Quickly eat and puff a smoke 
The TV blares and the stove is broke 
No need to talk or Crack a joke 
I packed your bags and we hit the road 
Start the car and End the day 
Knew this [bad word] round the end of May 
But it’s easier said than done 
Made our bed and we had our fun but 
(She’s leaving home) 
Paris France Spain and Milan 
Rides in Venice staring up at the stars 
Polaroid flicks 
And postcards in script 
Written to her family 
That she will dearly missed 
And the radio at night would play her favorite song 
Can’t hardly wait, Westerberg has his charm 
2 weeks alone and 1 week in Prague 
Days turn to month 
And that’s she want… 

They say home is where the heart is 
But what happens when you departing 
Excuse me miss but please you’ll have to pardon 
My behavior but I’m just getting started 
And I can say this with confidence 
Or my [bad word] sense 
To State the obvious 
Beyond [bad word] 
We are the opposites 
Attracted to each other 
Magnets for a mess 
Wishing all the best 
But only getting stressed 
Staying for the  
And fighting bout the checks 
Issues addressed 
Including your address 
You leaving home 
On a flight direct 
That I can’t intersect 
But if I can interject 
It’s not too late 
And I would just say 
That how we came together is a measure of fate 
But I guess it can wait as we pull up to the gate