You can just walk away from this.

It'd make for a simpler situation

If you knew how to move on.

You should see that I'm holding on

To the ghost you've become

When we parted years ago.

With your strength, pack the bags

And put me in the dusty road

For old buzzards to devour.

I might cry and scream and fret.

But in the end, I'm better torn

Since you're a leech to me.