_argbur_
this message may be offensive
Maybe I Was Boring
Wilbur Soot
He never had cool stories
He doesn't make your heart beat
Used to love his mystery
But now he's just exhausting
Another day spent just laying in his room
The stench of incense
And some undelivered food
And she thought
"What if he thinks I'm the one?
And I'll be forced to rot away
With him and his obsessions, with trivial things
Like the amount of fucking love hearts I finish a text message with"
And when you hold his hands
It doesn't feel like flying
And when you take his breath away
He might as well be dying
And you're dying to breathe
You're trapped in his cage
And it's shrinking
And she thought
"What if he just never leaves?
Or if he doesn't get the message?
And he doesn't hear my please?"
So she just started screaming
"Why can't he just bore me to death?"
(Why can't he just bore me to death?)
"Oh, why can't he just bore me to death?"
(Why can't he just bore me to death?)
"Oh, why can't he just bore me to death?"
(Why can't he just bore me to death?)
"Oh, why can't he just bore me to death?"
We all move on
Some faster than others
We all know
We all sacrifice
In a bath late in the evening, building up sorrow
But I can't say that I
Wasted my time
_argbur_
this message may be
offensive
This is the part where I shut up and let you infest my brain
But it's OK, it's a strategy to ensure I remain
You'll never get rid of me, well I'm like a fucking disease
I'll make a home in your gut
'Cause it's somewhere warm to sleep
It's OK
It's OK
Eat my rent and eat my food
And eat my dues and eat those kids
And maybe use a sextant
_argbur_
'Cause I'm built by you
And I can't say that I
Am glad it is over
'Cause that wouldn't be true
So, thank you
Oh, thank you
All I can say is "thank you"
But I can't say that I
Won't miss you
One, two, three, four
Bouncer greets us at tmber that day in the summer
When you were sat on me
And we cried, oh, how whe door
He can tell we've been here before, so he lets us pass
And we climb up 15 flights of stairs
And find that spot in the corner, just over there
It's only 6:30, but we're starting to drink
I'm ordering the usual
I think I need a change of pace
London's bursting at the seams
It's not quite the place I hoped I'd be
It's white wine in a Wetherspoons
It's fine dining with cheap perfume
Its country walks down the motorway
How many drugs have you done today?
'Cause concrete sculptures and broken glass
It's the lamp posts who guide our paths, because the moon can't get in
And the clouds hang heavy, blocking out his pursuit
And booze hangs limply on our rental suits
'Cause we're fires, we're burning bright
Breaking bottles and starting fights
But the evening has other plans
Run as they pull up with two more vans
It's white wine in a Wetherspoons
It's fine dining with cheap perfume
Its country walks down the motorway
How many drugs have you done today?
But I won't fuss
I'll let you pass
No, I won't fuss
I'll let you pass
'Cause it's only white wine in a Wetherspoons
Fine dining with cheap perfume
DLR closed due to workers' strikes
God knows how I'll get home tonight
I lost the passion that comes with living
Since I started university
I took a geography course to learn the datelines
And maybe use a sextant
But now I just press facsimiles
And you're exactly who you wanted to be, that's what you said
'Cause you wanna watch TV, and sleep all day, and lay in bed but
You're forgetting that I've got to go to work and eat my food
And pay my rent and reproduce and feed those kids
And maybe use a sextant
I don't miss you
I miss the thought of what we were