From the recording It Wasn't About the Money
Written by Brin Petersen
Lyrics
He said son, we need to talk I think
And handed me a slip of paper in a tasteful shade of pink
I said hey, I wasn’t stealing staplers, didn’t shtup the boss’ sister
He said Swinglines he might notice, pretty sure he wouldn’t have missed her
Chorus
Guess you just wore out your welcome and the whole deal’s goin’ south
Cuz no one wants to hear the things that fall out of your mouth
You know that door slams pretty hard, try not to let it hit you
Leave your ID at the door and take your worn-out welcome with you
Honey, I don’t mean to be a jerk
Just don’t recall my life in boxes when I headed off to work
She said now isn’t that just like you, not a single grateful word
After all the time I spent haulin’ your stuff out to the curb
Chorus
Babe you just wore out your welcome and the whole deal’s goin’ south
Cuz no one wants to hear the things that fall out of your mouth
You know that door slams pretty hard, try not to let it hit you
Just leave the last month’s rent and take your worn-out welcome with you
Bridge:
You just keep on talkin’ shit
I know you think you’re rockin’ it
But maybe stuff a sock in it
Before you shoot your mouth off any more
I've still got a place that I call home
Where they feed me stale pretzels while I drink and piss and moan
But the barman said hey listen, I know you’ve been out and down
But I lose another customer each time you come around
Chorus
Man, you just wore out your welcome and the whole deal’s goin’ south
No one wants to hear the things that fall out of your mouth
You know that door slams pretty hard, try not to let it hit you
Leave a twenty on the bar and take your worn-out welcome with you