Why is it always when I'm at work
When things are happy, fun - we're talking -
But when the work day nears done,
Your sweet voice goes silent
And not a word is spoken
Until its due time for
Your wide dream account to open.

Where does that put me,
Where does this leave me,
When the time comes,
You're never there?

How come you feel such a compelling need
To taunt and tease me
With your presence,
And then deny me?

So if that's your silly little game, girl,
Go and let me be.

I'm so over and done with you.
Done with all you've put me through,
And all the grief I've born for you.
It is past time for moving on.