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