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Apoc
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1
Boredom, the fruit of glum indifference
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You can hear it hearken through the chatter of these pigeons
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You can see it startin' as they clamor through the kitchen
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You can play your part or you can see what you've been missin'
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This party is played out!
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But I'm tryin' one last time as I make my way out
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Guess I shouldn't have stayed out
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But I'll give ya one more chance, whatcha' got to say now?
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I wanna talk about new ideas
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They wanna talk about the new Ikea
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How "˜bout politics, religion, science?
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I can see plain the disdain in their silence
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I know better, so I bolt for the bar
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My brain goes numb from the smoke in the car
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They're vain "˜ they're dumb, but they're broken "˜ scarred
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City's like a cell block; cold "˜ it's hard
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The boring pageant of immortal sin's
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Got the bartender beaten as he pours my gin
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It's hard to play the hero with the heart of a whore
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But I ain't sayin' sorry for my smarts no more
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Saints and satyrs in search of the infinite
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Paint gets splattered, the earth starts to spin a bit
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To make these matters for worse, they try to limit "˜em
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You can break "˜ batter these birds, we'll live to sing again
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Chorus:
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I would walk a mile for the keys to the moon
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I still wanna smile while we speed to our doom
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Been a season or two since I needed a move
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If dreams are for fools, this is boredom in bloom
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Well, it's been a while since we peaked from the womb
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Put ourselves on trial in the zenith of youth
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Whether bleedin' in blue, or still stealin' for food
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The meanin' eludes, this is boredom in bloom
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Lookin' to the aisle while we kneel in the pew
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Join the rank "˜ file, got some breedin' to do
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When they feed you a tune, you concede that it's true
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You just heed to their cue, this is boredom in bloom
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Just another style, but we deem it as "˜cool'
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You can teach a child why we need to consume
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These are pieces of you that are seen through the view
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Of a screen that is skewed, this is boredom in bloom
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We can not consume what we can not buy
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We don't have to bloom, but we have to die
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Testaments and tombstones always lie
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A floral festoon, E-N-N-U-I
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These wings wanna sing if we let them fly
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These kings know a thing about the empty sky
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But these finks wouldn't shrink from a dead man's cry
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Nor blink at a drink, you can bet your eye
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These kids wanna tell me how they write a blog
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Not start a revolutionary dialogue
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We die like dogs tryin' to fight the fog
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Been city so long, startin' to like the smog
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The psychogeography of cerebral slums's
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Got us mauled by mixed media "˜ feelin' numb
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Appalled by this feelin' that the dream is done
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All forced to face what our freedom has won
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Chorus
"ARE YOU SINGLE" #shorts
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