Other People's Things

Packing up all these boxes
Blowing dust off memories
Every little thing I seem to find
Is one last look at you and me
A few old CDs at the bottom
I turn one over and find our song
And there’s a t-shirt that the band signed, that night
I always wondered where it had gone
If anyone else opened this box
They’d see for themself
It’s just a pile of old junk
But to me, everything in there is a secret memory
It’s all that I have left of you and me
But to anyone else, it’s just other people’s things
There’s the shoes I wore on our first date
A photo of us in the snow down town
That old pair of jeans you used to hate
So full of holes but I wouldn’t throw them out
It’s hard to see these things when you don’t need me now
If anyone else opened this box
They’d see for themself
It’s just a pile of old junk
But to me, everything in there is a secret memory
It’s all that I have left of you and me
But to anyone else, it’s just other people’s things, woah
If anyone else opens this box
And helps themself to whatever they want
Well I hope everything in there is a better memory
Better than they were for you and me
'Cause when I close this box
They’re not ours anymore
If there’s no you and me
They’re just other people’s things
They’re just other people’s things