My Stuff Too
I know that this isn't the end of the world
In a way, I'm going home
I know people there
I've got a better job
With better pay
I mean, I know people there
This moving thing, it's no big deal
I've done it before
The first time my parents moved
I was three or four
I've moved as an adult all over the place
So I don't know what's up with her
She tells me she's been here all her life
And this is all a big deal for her
And she's angry at her friends
At not caring that she's leaving
(well, she's always an isolationist,
does she bring it on herself?)
But she's angry that she doesn't have a job
(and why did she give up on looking?)
And no, I don't know what battles she's facing
I won't claim to know
But she wants me to take care of this move
And she's got all this stuff
And I'm just waiting for the time
When her stuff
Becomes mine
When it is my stuff too?
