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 pleas? 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?
Compositor: William Patrick Gold (Wilbur Soot) ECAD: Obra #34923772