Tear down the house that I grew up in.
I’ll never be the same again.
Take everything that I’ve collected,
and throw it in a pile.
Bulldoze the woods that I ran through.
Carry the pictures of me and you.
I have no memory of who I once was,
and I don’t remember your name.
Park the old car that I love the best.
Inspection’s due and it won’t pass the test.
It’s funny how I have to put it to rest,
and how one day I will join it.
I remember crying over you,
and I don’t mean like a couple of tears and I’m blue.
I’m talking about collapsing and screaming at the moon,
but I’m a better man for having gone through it.
Yes, I’m a better man for having gone through.
Ever since I learned how to curse.
I’ve been using those sorry old words.
But I’m talking to these children and I’m keeping it clean.
I don’t need those words to say what I mean.
No, I don’t need those words to say what I mean