Текст песни Chekhov's Hangnail - Martha

Well, I've never been any good at poetry
And I stumble over words from time to time
But tempted by a hangnail, I once flayed my middle finger
Butchered cuticles, stain the page like wine
Count the digits, how unsuitable are mine?

When it rains
Well, it really fucking pours
We made waves
Did my screaming drown out yours?
Here we are, mixing metaphors
And sometimes it might seem that we lost the battle
But if no one wins the war, then why keep score?

Everything is mediocre
I'm bored, nothing satisfies
An existential crisis mixtape on repeat until I die
Left decomposing on the floor
This routine's awful for my posture
Looking 'round for something more
Sure that I'd lost ya

When it rains
Well, it really fucking pours
We made waves
Did my screaming drown out yours?
Here we are, mixing metaphors
And sometimes it might seem that we lost the battle
But if no one wins the war, then why keep score?

It might seem that we lost the battle
It might seem that we lost the battle, yeah
It might seem that we lost the battle
It might seem that we lost the battle, yeah
It might seem that we lost the battle
It might seem that we lost the battle, yeah
It might seem that we lost the battle
It might seem that we lost the battle, yeah
It might seem that we lost the battle (Everything is mediocre)
It might seem that we lost the battle, yeah
It might seem that we lost the battle
But if no one wins the war, then why keep score?
Na, na, na, na, na
Ye-yeah