Текст песни Maybe I Was Boring - Wilbur
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
'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
We
both
remember
that
day
in
the
summer
When
you
were
sat
on
me
And
we
cried,
oh,
how
we
cried
In
that
moment,
we've
never
been
so
happy
But
I
can't
say
that
I
Wasted
my
time
'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
(Yeah,
I'm
recording)
One,
two,
three,
four
Bouncer
greets
us
at
the
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
This
is
the
part
where
I
shut
up
and
let
you
infest
my
brain
Wrap
your
arms
around
my
cortex,
dig
you
in,
and
let
you
drain
You'll
never
get
rid
of
me,
oh,
I'm
like
a
fucking
disease
I'll
make
a
home
in
your
gut
'Cause
it's
somewhere
warm
to
sleep
What
was
your
thought
when
you
realised
You'll
never
feel
naive
love
again?
Was
it
pain
or
was
it
sickness?
Were
you
proud
of
who
you'd
been?
The
shyness
waiting
for
his
phone
calls
Replaced
by
apathy
and
dating
apps
You
held
his
hands,
it
felt
like
flying
Now
he's
just
another
man
You'd
rather
he
was
inside
than
beside
you
But
he's
talking
marriage
and
a
future
He's
picking
a
lock
he
doesn't
go
into
Less
knife
in
a
wound,
he's
a
suture
I
don't
miss
you
I
miss
the
thought
of
what
we
were
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
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