Boredom

Tremendously boring sassing groups of nerdy whores and burning roads behind our backs make us hide our highest scores Worries, worries, never ending Probably a brein in fear of time Come pray my fiend and stay with me I'll spend a tray of bread and wine Tumble, tumble, hit the ground with your ideas high in the sky Whisper, whisper, not a sound Hush, since the entire shy walk by And all the stories just move on as if an end could never be And all the stories just move on And in the end its only me