Predictable

Our problems never go away
they only sort of fade.
pushed away and out of sight,
there they stay, forgave.
we really have to realize
the things we do must change
and go about them differently
a thing that we find strange.
'Cause all the times that I remember,
changing's not a thing we do
we're stubborn and impractical
at least that much is true.
I raise my voice,
you hide away,
Or silently contend
and what you're thinking,
I don't know,
I have to just pretend.
We compromise,
we come to ends,
but what good will it do?
You'll just forget,
and so will I
about ever leaving you.