Among the afflictions
With which I've been marked
I'm not so pretentious
And not quite so dark
I get the feeling you're bored with me
And not through habit or frequency
Did your mother have you easily?
And if there's someplace else you'd rather be
Then go, then go
Then go, then go

Among the intentions
Which have been sought
Numbered and labelled
But none of them bought
I get the feeling you're bored with me
Not through habit or frequency
Did your mother have you easily?
And if there's someplace else you'd rather be
Then go, then go
Then go, then go

It seems so deca tree
Stares blindingly with melted time
Leaning over, it's only... oh...
Then go
Then go, then go
Then go, then go...