Suitcase - Matthew Koma

You look like Sundays with my ex

Sit at breakfast with your arms across your chest

Like a cross she wore my trust around her neck

Till it hung her

My baby, she was clinically obsessed

Our identity was physical, but less

Every now and then her noise Inside my head re-enters

She said I remember loving you all of the good shit

And all the bad shit too

I remember hating you

For all the right things you never tried to do

I remember needing you

Call me an addict, to your elastic moods

I’m packing every memory that we made

In a suitcase

You’re on a train I used to wreck

With the bullets of the least of my respect

I wish there was a shot I could regret

But there isn’t

Yea, there were tongues I spoke in heat

That I never meant to say, or meant to mean

In the shop or when I see her in my sleep in visions

She said I remember loving you

All of the good shit and all the bad shit too

I remember hating you

For all the right things you never tried to do

I remember needing you

Call me an addict, to your elastic moods

I’m packing every memory that we made

In a suitcase

I know you hate it when I say I’m sorry

But I’m sorry

Ohh

Ohh

Ohh

She said I remember loving you

All of the good shit and all the bad shit too

I remember hating you

For all the right things you never tried to do

I remember needing you

Call me an addict, to your elastic moods

I’m packing every memory that we made

In a suitcase

In a suitcase

You look like Sundays with my ex

Eating breakfast with your arms across your chest

Like a cross you were my trust around her neck

Till it hung her