They're making jokes of me
The bored angels
Assigned to boring streets
They get their kicks laughing at me

I'm breaking clocks
They can't move slow enough
To match the pace I talk
And if they could
I think they'd walk out

I'd call you back today
If I had more than
Stupid things to say
Or if I knew how to
Pronounce the stupid
Things I have to say

I'm backing out of every
Shitty parking job
I ever used as an excuse
To keep you in the car
To finish out the song

I'm making myself leave
To move quick
To go quietly
To not pick up the jewelry
From your new place
Swear it fell off in the old space
I'm making jokes of me
This boring song
Assigned this boring beat
I get my kicks laughing at me