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.