"Don’t want a psychiatrist, a pill for my blue. Don’t wanna find the joy within or find someone new. And maybe you are crazy, baby, but what can I do if I don’t want to be happy, I want you?"
"Should I stay or should I leave your memory behind? I’ve been waiting, hoping you might change your mind. The ghost of who we were is still living in this house."
"If there was a hurricane we’d know who to blame for tearing the house down. There was no warning, a warm Sunday morning, streaming pieces on the ground. There’s the front door and the kitchen sink, broken bath, busted glass. Baby, do you think, do you think it was an act of god for a loss of faith? Was it an act of man? You know these times ain’t that safe. Was it you and me that tore down this house? Well, I’m leaving and I ain’t coming back."
"When will I know better, when will I know better? When will the clarity eluding me take over those that fetter. When will I know, when will I know, when will I believe the best of me is anything I deem to be true more than him, her, or you. I concede, it’s more than I need."
"I remember the first night in this house. Three years ago, it’s hard to look back now ‘cause I swear you just passed me in the hall as I was taking down your picture off the wall."