Into It. Over It. Your Mantra Lyrics

Piling old Knick-Knacks into the back of her car (A now swollen four-door Honda in blue) leaving one worn out industrial town in hopes of selling off gifts I had gotten from you... But, I haven't sold a thing, which leads me to believe I'm just repeating the same sorry cycle as when I was 15. Well, I'm completely aware of how boring this is. My back's grown sore from still standing still. Standing those who brought chairs as they can sit back and watch as all of the small crowd files out. And, as we close up shop, I've spent more than I've earned; A trait in me you'd seem to admire, but you've spent the last of our common sense on selling off the old and expired. We hadn't sold a thing, reminding me of you just repeating your mantra: "Out with the old and in without you."