Boredom hits you, so fast, so hard Got to run to keep up with you Late night, young walk Champagne, small talk I am so tired of this cartoon
My suspicion, calm suspicion like a feather lands upon your shoe But you see bombs come chrashing Lightning flashing There is nothing left for me to do
But you're a habit Rusty, constant habit Brought up in familiar ways And you're here with me And through your dusty poems Loaded with your poems I am wanting you, still wanting you