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Apoc
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Starving for Conversation
Boredom, the fruit of glum indifference
You can hear it hearken through the chatter of these pigeons
You can see it startin' as they clamor through the kitchen
You can play your part or you can see what you've been missin'
This party is played out!
But I'm tryin' one last time as I make my way out
Guess I shouldn't have stayed out
But I'll give ya one more chance, whatcha' got to say now?
I wanna talk about new ideas
They wanna talk about the new Ikea
How 'bout politics, religion, science?
I can see plain the disdain in their silence
I know better, so I bolt for the bar
My brain goes numb from the smoke in the car
They're vain 'n they're dumb, but they're broken 'n scarred
City's like a cell block; cold 'n it's hard
The boring pageant of immortal sin's
Got the bartender beaten as he pours my gin
It's hard to play the hero with the heart of a whore
But I ain't sayin' sorry for my smarts no more
Saints and satyrs in search of the infinite
Paint gets splattered, the earth starts to spin a bit
To make these matters for worse, they try to limit 'em
You can break 'n batter these birds, we'll live to sing again
Chorus:
I would walk a mile for the keys to the moon
I still wanna smile while we speed to our doom
Been a season or two since I needed a move
If dreams are for fools, this is boredom in bloom
Well, it's been a while since we peaked from the womb
Put ourselves on trial in the zenith of youth
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Whether bleedin' in blue, or still stealin' for food
The meanin' eludes, this is boredom in bloom
Lookin' to the aisle while we kneel in the pew
Join the rank 'n file, got some breedin' to do
When they feed you a tune, you concede that it's true
You just heed to their cue, this is boredom in bloom
Just another style, but we deem it as 'cool'
You can teach a child why we need to consume
These are pieces of you that are seen through the view
Of a screen that is skewed, this is boredom in bloom
We can not consume what we can not buy
We don't have to bloom, but we have to die
Testaments and tombstones always lie
A floral festoon, E-N-N-U-I
These wings wanna sing if we let them fly
These kings know a thing about the empty sky
But these finks wouldn't shrink from a dead man's cry
Nor blink at a drink, you can bet your eye
These kids wanna tell me how they write a blog
Not start a revolutionary dialogue
We die like dogs tryin' to fight the fog
Been city so long, startin' to like the smog
The psychogeography of cerebral slums's
Got us mauled by mixed media 'n feelin' numb
Appalled by this feelin' that the dream is done
All forced to face what our freedom has won
Chorus
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