I’ve been taking my time for a long time Putting my feet up all odds Speaking English as a foreign language Any words that I haven’t forgot I’ve been thinking how I can’t be bothered To wash the dishes or remake the bed What’s the point when I could just… instead?
I’ve been hanging as a fairy trif raf Somewhere along the go hobrose I don’t think it’s gonna be much longer So I know they’re up, harlequin old codes
Love is a bourgeois construct So I’ve given up on the bourgeoisie Like all their aspirations, it’s a fantasy
When you walked out you did me a favor You made me see reality This love is a bourgeois construct It’s a blame turn to fallacy You won’t see me with a bunch of losers Promising fatality
Love doesn’t mean a thing to me Talking tough as we linger We’re better now, it’s clear to me
Love is a bourgeois construct So I’ve given up on the bourgeoisie While we’re anchored forget the voices I’ll just get along with what I’ve got Watching the weeds in the garden Putting my fear upon odds
I’ll explore the outer limits of boredom Moaning periodically Drift a far time, lonely lay about That’s me
When you walked out you did me a favor It’s absolutely clear to me That love is a bourgeois construct Just like they said at university
I’ve been taking my time for a long time With all the shadow and forever its cost Calculating what you’ve lost
Now I’m digging through my student paper bags Flicking through Karl Marx again Searching for the soul of England Drinking tea like Tony Benn
Love is just a bourgeois construct So give it up, the bourgeoisie Until you come back to me
@smartbot_tg_bot
