I can only sleep on trains
if they're moving
I'm trying to rank out if that means
Anything I find is boring
I'm trying to make it mean something
Start trying to commute with sense,
with instinct playing
Trying to work out if I'm winning
or losing if I'm just bored
I'm trying to make this
mean something
Hiding away with real meaning
Sticking my notions
with the hopes of convincing anyone
How they slip away, one by one
Just a boring boy, such a boring boy
Never writes his note,
nev er checks his diary
Just a boring boy, such a boring boy
Never else is fun,
never chance is dying
I'm a boring boy, such a boring boy
Never else is fun, never chance is dying
Just a boring boy, such a boring boy
Never else is fun,
never chance is dying
Oh, I could sit on this floor
And connect the fairy lights
like moles in your neck
Or I could drink this red
And fall asleep on it instead
Oh, I could sit on this floor
and connect to fairy lights
like balls in your neck
Or I could drink this red
Fall asleep on it instead you