Packing bags, and fillin’ cases
Oh, what they doin’ to ya
Movin’ out the chairs and tables
Boxin’ up the spoons and ladles
“We’ll be out by Monday”, you hear them sayin’
“Better, get these beds away, and
They’re strippin’ the walls, and takin’ down pictures
Losin’ the past, as they remove their riches
And you stand
Outside on your own
And you wait
But they ain’t coming home to you
That’s right and you stand
In the middle of the street
Think about the new place
That they gonna meet
Bricked up doorways, and boarded windows
Driveway gates are closin’
Moss on the walls, and weeds in the gravel
Rooftiles buckle, and guttering dangles
Rising damp, and leaky pipework
Kitchen sink is fillin’
Water drippin’ down the chimney
Rottin’ the floor where the fire once burned
And so you stand
Outside on your own
And you wait
But they ain’t coming home to you
That’s right and you stand
In the middle of the street
Think about the new place
That they gonna meet
So this is the end
And they’ve gone
There’s nothing you can do
‘s gonna bring em back
And now you gonna think
‘s all you can do now
But they’ll never know
They’ll never know what they’re missing
And all of those times
When they sat around
You’re gonna miss ‘em
And you know what’s funny
Sounds just like a girl I used to know