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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 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

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