I'm bored.
I think I'll start a revolution
If I can get up off the couch, and into the street
I'll throw a brick through the window of a coffee shop
And cause a scene in the middle of a parking lot
I'll Kick and punch and scream
Start letting off some steam
Or just yell at my TV.
But the sad truth is
I don't care
Enough to leave my bed
I can never sing the perfect words
They get stuck inside my head
On the tip of my tongue
I can never say the right words
So I put them in song
But I'm no closer to getting my point across
I can't articulate myself
As well as I would like
After years of practice
I've found out that I may as well just try
In hopes one day I
Might write that perfect ending line
Of poetry to set me free
From the confines of reality
This broken record that I tend to be