| Rock, paper, scissors
|
| Sittin' on the table in the kitchen
|
| That’s all he’s got left since she got gone
|
| It goes hand-in-hand with the memory of doing her wrong
|
| She slipped that ring off her finger
|
| Slapped that ink on a goodbye note
|
| She cut his face outta every picture
|
| Lost his last name but won the game of
|
| Rock, paper, scissors
|
| Bouncing on the table as he pounds it double-fisted
|
| He’s blowing up her phone but it ain’t gonna change a thing
|
| 'Cause there ain’t gonna be no best two out of three
|
| She slipped that ring off her finger
|
| Slapped that ink on a goodbye note
|
| She cut his face outta every picture
|
| Lost his last name but won the game of
|
| When she found him passed out on couch
|
| With lipstick on his cheek
|
| There was nothing left but take a breath
|
| And one, two, three
|
| She slipped that ring off her finger
|
| Slapped that ink on a goodbye note
|
| She cut his face outta every picture
|
| Lost his last name but won the game of
|
| Rock, paper, scissors
|
| Sittin' on the table in the kitchen
|
| Yeah |