Bilhete

I broke your plate
Locked my room
Drank your liquor
Tidied up the living room
I've packed your suitcase
Put it in the hallway

I cleaned up my life
I removed you from my body
I removed you from my insides
I did a kind of abortion
And finally our affair is over
It's dead

Throw the spare keys
Under the door
So there's no reason
To think about coming back
Stay with your own
Good luck, goodbye
Good luck, goodbye