Apoc - Starving for Conversation Lyrics
Boredom, the fruit of glum indifferenceYou can hear it hearken through the chatter of these pigeonsYou can see it startin’ as they clamor through the kitchenYou 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 outGuess I shouldn’t have stayed outBut I’ll give ya one more chance, whatcha’ got to say now?I wanna talk about new ideasThey wanna talk about the new IkeaHow ‘bout politics, religion, science?I can see plain the disdain in their silenceI know better, so I bolt for the barMy brain goes numb from the smoke in the carThey’re vain ‘n they’re dumb, but they’re broken ‘n scarredCity’s like a cell block; cold ‘n it’s hardThe boring pageant of immortal sin’sGot the bartender beaten as he pours my ginIt’s hard to play the hero with the heart of a whoreBut I ain’t sayin’ sorry for my smarts no moreSaints and satyrs in search of the infinitePaint gets splattered, the earth starts to spin a bitTo make these matters for worse, they try to limit ‘emYou can break ‘n batter these birds, we’ll live to sing againChorus:I would walk a mile for the keys to the moonI still wanna smile while we speed to our doomBeen a season or two since I needed a moveIf dreams are for fools, this is boredom in bloomWell, it’s been a while since we peaked from the wombPut ourselves on trial in the zenith of youthWhether bleedin’ in blue, or still stealin’ for foodThe meanin’ eludes, this is boredom in bloomLookin’ to the aisle while we kneel in the pewJoin the rank ‘n file, got some breedin’ to doWhen they feed you a tune, you concede that it’s trueYou just heed to their cue, this is boredom in bloomJust another style, but we deem it as ‘cool’You can teach a child why we need to consumeThese are pieces of you that are seen through the viewOf a screen that is skewed, this is boredom in bloomWe can not consume what we can not buyWe don’t have to bloom, but we have to dieTestaments and tombstones always lieA floral festoon, E-N-N-U-IThese wings wanna sing if we let them flyThese kings know a thing about the empty skyBut these finks wouldn’t shrink from a dead man’s cryNor blink at a drink, you can bet your eyeThese kids wanna tell me how they write a blogNot start a revolutionary dialogueWe die like dogs tryin’ to fight the fogBeen city so long, startin’ to like the smogThe psychogeography of cerebral slums'sGot us mauled by mixed media ‘n feelin’ numbAppalled by this feelin’ that the dream is doneAll forced to face what our freedom has wonChorus
