It spills over countertops,
Out of the kitchen sink,
Onto the floor.
It runs past doorways and
Past the steps
That take you to the side door.
Into the car she drives
And away it goes.

I guess she isn't coming back
I guess she isn't staying here
I guess she isn't loving
All of us anytime soon.
I guess she'll just leave us all
Wallowing in our own selves
'Till we help each other up
Then she'll come back to stop us.

It races down the dirt road,
The one I grew up on,
And onto the pavement.
It goes past the town line,
Into the valley where
It can find its way "home".
It rushes through the arch,
That the train passes over
Loud and terribly.

I guess she isn't coming back
I guess I hope she'll stay away
I guess my sister doesn't like her too.
I guess she isn't loving us too.
I guess she'll just have to be cut
Out of what she chose to leave.
I don't care if she "loves" me
Her words mean bullshit.

It dashes over her porch steps,
Into her apartment
Where she lives alone.
It splashes into her bedroom,
Past the next door
And into the storage room.
It turns on around,
And then it calms down,
And finally it goes back home.

Back down her porch steps,
and back to my dirt road
and back to my home.
Back up the steps,
And through the side door,
And now I'm home
Never leaving again.