Boring out and boring in,
My days are screaming ill.
How unscathed my existence seems,
How frivolous my being feels!

Sometimes I drag through the day,
Sometimes I fake all the way.
All of this and all of that,
And, I am sitting completely dry.

Living is boring, dying I don’t know.
Counting my stars, just being in the flow.
Can I strike the still water?
May be I’ll feel a little better…

At least for a brief while,
‘Cause I have to go miles…