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
It's not that i'm filled with doubt
But there's stuff that weirds me out
Just a bit still
People ask me all the time
"do you really think it's right?"
But i can't say no
Let's go to the echo room
Don't say what i can't consume
I won't feed this thing to bloom
Talking, talking what's the use?
I'm just so hard to amuse
You're wasting your breath
As i am wasting mine
But your neglect is so refined