Last one standing
Lemmings in the slipstream.
Rowdy overhead with a chance of cirrus bleeding.
Tumbling babies
Full can crushed – it's raining.
Drop the metaphors
And stop your complaining.

Only boring people get bored
(I'm an accountant with a funko pop collection and)
No dullard can ever be adored.
(I'd try to face myself if it weren't for all this contrition)
Only boring people get bored
(I read car magazines and get a kick from petrol stations)
No dullard can ever be adored.

Maybe I'll throw my brain a bone
And take a trip to the pub alone.
Learn the pluggy for the very first time
Until I've got four hands
And it's got one light.

“Survival” is a strong word for such a basic thing.
Between harsh syllables, still living,
Still living still breathing.
Face the corner, though you've done nothing wrong.
I just need you to ask that paint what's taking so long.

Only boring people get bored
(My organs are all beige to match my general disposition)
No dullard can ever be adored
(I'd sooner face the grave than seek a love with any friction)
Only boring people get bored
(Exiled to Wick because I can't commit to self-betterment)
No dullard can ever be adored

You wanted this, feeling worthless
A big ol' burden to yourself.
But where better than the arse-end of nowhere
To contemplate your own mental health?
Just keep asking the mirror,
Asking the furniture

Is this limbo?
Is this limbo?
All alone with hemispheres akimbo.
And between the panic attacks
The fixtures and fittings scream back,

“Face the firing squad!”
(The synapses collapse)
“Boy, you're on your tod!”
(Double back, double back)

See this through and I promise you
You won't have changed a bit.
It's a lovely hotel but, man,
I feel like shit.