Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
Bored Nothing
What's wrong with sleep
Oh compared to weed it's cheap
But my dreams are always keeping me awake
What's wrong with the chase
Even though you're out of place
Maybe charm is at the bottom of a glass
And it's hard for me to say
But you've all got shit for brains
What's wrong with you
I know that you've lost a few
But you're lazy and it's driving me insane
What's wrong with me
I'm a juvenile machine
I'd be such a man if i could get a lay
And it's so nice to see
That you're using your degree
And it's hard for me to say
But we've all got shit for brains