Moving - Twain

Every time it feels like a drag, I ask my love

Pack a couple months of clothes in the bag

Hey, that’s enough

Put a little gas in the car, we’re not going far

Park it underneath the old oak

Hey, there you go

When you go you never really go away

What’s another word for confused that’s not being used?

It’s a feeling I can’t describe, yet still I try

Every time it feels like a drag, I check my bag

If I ask my love to be true, that’s what it will do

When you go you never really go away