Your so close to dying
A molecule based misery seeps from the floor
On a not unexpected, but disappointing 5 past 10
Your dodging english again to escape the rainpour
While an egg yolk begins to weep for you
As you take another bite of your morning bap
It’s as miserable of a picture as it sounds
And all you got is the classic English morning for company

You don’t even know when it went wrong
But you know that look when it cuts you
Reserved for the most fiendish of miscreants
As he finds any excuse to pull his hand away from yours
An itch, checking the phone, pointing to a bug eating dogshit
He’s just millimetres separate from you, but you’re continents apart
He was even in rush to kiss you at the door
And there goes a boy, who didn’t want to be here in the first place

Was it something you said? Or did?
Did you miss the cue to deliver your line?
Fuck the line, I don’t think you ever got the script
Maybe he’s right, maybe you never do listen
How do you apologise, you know he’ll just ask why?
And if you turn up short of an answer
Then that’s as good as telling him to fuck off
No matter how many ways you try to solve the sum
Distract his melancholy with treats and trinkets
And cement the cracks with his fave’ band t-shirt
You always come up with bad remainders
And it slowly starts to dawn on you; that it’s futile

So you sink further into the diners throne
Your face covered by the azure curls
In your Totoro hoodie, with your copy of Wild World
As you try and stomach; there’s nothing you can do
To make the clouds part and the sun shine
So you might as well just waste your time…

Lnc0