Tuesday in the morning, I walk outside to a police car, pulling up to my yard Goodbye dear stepfather, I punch my fist right through the wall Now that it's over, I don't know how to feel, moving to California, where I won't have to deal So what you think, do you think it would make you sad? What you think, do you think it would make you sorry? Well I'm sorry, I wouldn't want to make you sorry For me Wednesday in the morning, I walk downstairs to the sound of my mother and my sister crying Chain smoking cigarettes, foot to the floor of my car as I go to confront you Now that it's over, I don't know how to feel, moving to California, where I won't have to deal So what you think, do you think it would make you sad? What you think, do you think it would make you sorry? Well I'm sorry, I wouldn't want to make you sorry For me For me