©2013 Liam P.F. O’Connell

WHY ‘YOU PACKIN’ A SUITCASE, WHY YOU SLAMMIN’ THE DOOR?

Why ‘you packin’ a suitcase, why ‘you slammin’ the door?
I wasn’t that late gettin’ home last night, it was only half-past four,
And about that money you said was gone from outa the kitchen drawer,
You better not claim that I’m to blame or I’m really gonna be sore.
So why ‘you packin’ a suitcase, honey, and why ‘you slammin’ the door?


Why ‘you packin’ a suitcase, why ‘you slammin’ the door?
I know I need to cut down on weed, and I’ll do it now for sure;
I know I need to look for a job ‘cause our credit rating’s poor,
But sure as heck when I do get a check I’ll buy you a four by four.
So why ‘you packin’ a suitcase, honey, and why ‘you slammin’ the door?


Why ‘you packin’ a suitcase, why ‘you slammin’ the door?
All I said was hey! to that gal ‘cross the way, no need to call her a whore.
I didn’t try to romance her, no, I didn’t try to score,
So there ain’t no place for a Federal case, no need to go to war,
So why ‘you packin’ a suitcase, honey, and why ‘you slammin’ the door?


Why ‘you packin’ a suitcase, why ‘you slammin’ the door?
Remember when I said I love you, and what can a guy do more?
And how ‘bout this here counseling, it’s a thing we could explore,
As long as it don’t get personal, can’t help it if I snore,
But I’ll shower every day, if you must have your way, you’re the one I do adore,
So let me carry that suitcase back, and close the goddam door.