Quarrel
What can stand the test of time,
If what’s between us isn’t fine
That I find myself wondering, as I dial on the phone,
If I really want to hear anything pass the dial tone.
When all we ever do now is fight,
Leaving me awake every night.
We argue about the simplest, or rather, the stupidest things,
And, I know, a lot of it is me starting with the littlest pings.
When we talk, I see only the negative,
Where before out words were not conservative.
I think we kid ourselves when we say its okay,
And neither of us really wants to stay.
Or when we both at the end are saying sorry,
But we say it so much, that that word makes us weary.
But you know what?
We both still say that,
We say it after the fight, in the end,
Not in the middle or the beginning instead.
We still fight it out,
Neither one of us quitting with a shout.
If you or I didn’t put up a fight,
That would be way worse as a warning light,
Cuz that’s the sign of someone who’s just gotten tired,