Uninspired

Hey, can you turn off the TV cause there's nothing good there anyway. Hey, can you finally see me because sometimes I feel so estranged. And I don't know what it is but these last 19 summers have been so painfully boring to live. And I'm not sure what it might be but these past 19 summers haven't been shining as hard as they should have been. And now I'm stuck, singing these same old songs, waiting for the melody to change a bit. Same old songs, hoping something will finally switch. Same old songs, sitting around, whistilng melanchollically, waiting for somebody to show me another beat, not really positive, but hey... here's to hoping. Hey, what am I going to do now that spring is finally here? Should I go outside and look at the flowers? No, I think I'll stay right here. And my good friend Wilde says: 'Get out of bed.' I'm trying, mr. Wilde, I'm trying my best. And Morrissey says that people are a dread, and I don't want to believe him, but I must confess That I'm stuck, singing these sad songs, not even sad, just incredibly boring. Will the writer please quit the mourning of this perfect life and stop being so morbid...