All this sentimental value that you've attached to me
For you this sentimental value is all that's left of me
When I think of life without you
It's not sad just hard to picture
Because of all this sentimental value
I'm just a permanent fixture
Consider myself a part of the furniture
A worn out old armchair you can't bear to part with
That's why the hold is so hard to relinquish
Although any flame has long been extinguished
Don't spare me the pain, believe me when I tell you
Don't do me any favors
All that's left is sentimental value
When love becomes a labor
It's time for a yard sale, a spring cleaning
Throw out all these things that have lost all their meaning
You keep piling up all the things that you treasure
You horde like a packrat, you guard your own pleasure
Don't spare me the pain believe me when I tell you
By now it makes no difference
All that's left is sentimental value
When love stops... when love stops paying...
When love stops paying interest