I feel like the romance is dead

This old heart has seen better days

You’re putting a gun to your own head

But its okay –there’s a big hole there anyways

And how does that old saying go?

I need you like a ho- well, you know the rest

You’re marking your own grave, you know

But by tomorrow everything will look its best

I’ll be gone, but like you’d notice anyways

You never see me enough to tell

So maybe it’s best we go our separate ways

Either that or stop putting me through Hell.