If we are parting, honey
I want it all to be fair.
So you can keep the table
And I’m gonna take those chairs.

I’m taking all my books here
And leaving the tapes to you.
But as for these here, honey
I don’t quite know what to do:

Chorus:
Who takes the photos?
Who’s gonna take the photos?


Look at this, near the fountain.
And here we’re in the park.
You are pretty on this one.
Me? - I’m there in the dark.

Yeah, nearly every moment
Of several years that have passed.
Just a heap of old pictures, honey.
Our withered, forgotten past.

Chorus.


- I’ll take them.
- I want them, too!
- Oh, we can tear them in two halves. Each.
- Oh, no, no!
- Or we can just burn’em.
- Why? Oh no, what an idea! Leave’em to me.
- But why the hell to you? I’m on all of them, as well!
- Oh, but... Oh, I don’t know.


Chorus:
So who’s gonna take the photos?
Who’ll keep the photos?



© 1996-2001