so they say only good wine leaves a stain
on the shirts put aside for memorable days
and your father never warned you about my habits
like my penchant for bad magazines and video games
they're the easiest problems to recognise
i'm the books you're tired of reading; stories all the same
and the mess between the covers never change
all these moments caught in paragraphs and frames
fade like perfumed lovers' clothes left out in the rain
all the change that's been collecting in my pockets
spent on gumballs, fake tattoos and gold plastic lockets
they're the everyday treasures you demonise
i'm the books you're tired of reading, stories all the same
and the mess between the covers never change
and the lights you don't want to turn off burn out all the same
and you'll stumble into the same walls, again and again