Ill pack up your things,
Toss them in the yard,
Your clothes and my rings,
I'll throw them so ******* far

You don't have to worry,
They'll be back in their places tomorrow,
I'll make you breakfast I'm sorry,
I know better than to act on my sorrow

The comings days will be fine,
A few weeks of apologetic bliss,
I know you'll keep crossing my boundary line,
But **** I crave your venomous kiss