Other People's Things

Packing up all these boxes Blowing dust off memories Every little thing I seem to find Is one less 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 themselves 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, they're just other people's things.