PMS

They say I have a disorder
and there's a name for it
An abbreviation of letters
for putting up with your shit

You said I'd never find
another quite like you
Looking at our past
I hope that this is true

Now that I'm free
from your burdens full of sin
Time for the real me
to spread my wings again

Hang out with my friends
and watch a girly flick
Talk about the past
and how you were a prick

Eat chocolate for dinner
whenever I get home
To help me get over
this P.M.S. syndrome

In love with this freedom
so don't you even think
I'm even missing you
or dirty bathroom sink

I don't miss the laundry
or skid marks that you left
My gratitude for this
I hope you will accept

No more finding you
on my couch asleep
While I'm busy cleaning
the house you wouldn't keep

Now that you're gone
I don't worry anymore
No more yellow stains
left on the bathroom floor

I won't even mention
all your "shortcomings"
It's better left unsaid
about these type of things

You left the keys to your apartment
on the countertop
Said if I get the urge
when passing by go ahead and stop

Maybe to say hi
and just hang out for awhile
What the hell I figured
as I pulled into your drive

I knew you weren't home
but I let myself inside
Hoping you'll understand
the intentions I implied

Beer caps I collected
from all those games of Football
I designed them into a mural
of a jackass on your wall

There to remind you
there's no one quite like you
I hope you get the picture
that we're finally through

You claim that I am crazy
and should have some therapy
There is a first for everything
On this we can agree

Melinda Kay Smith