Mikill Pane — Chairman Of The Bored lyrics

Lyrics

Sitting in the house with my trainers on Winter ain’t about so the days are long
We all planned a trip to the beach
But I spent too many minutes in the shower so my mates are gone
They did warn me but I’m a tiny bit vexed
I’ll give 'em all piece of my mind in a text
And if they ring my phone I’ll pretend I can’t hear it You could probably call it a fight to the death
As soon as I could talk any sense as a kid
They said my attitude was beastly it still is Proof that I was born to be an offensive king
The only guy ruder then me is prince Philip
I’m not sorry that they have to read my nonsense
I showered for long enough to clean my conscious
And how could I be when they’re out by the sea
While I’m trying to keep my head above deeper problems
This is not a happy song
I’ve got it badly wrong
It’s my chance and now it’s gone, Wo-oh
It’s a nice day for those plans
But time waits for no man
You’re try’na call your gang
They’re lying on the sand
And if sitting in your house is your business now
And to figure it out you sent signals out
But you fear they were ignored
You’re the chairman of the bored
Sitting in the shade as the day drags on Had a cigarette break that was eight fags long
The future doesn’t look that bright to me And it ain’t because Pane has Ray-bans on So I’ve given up I’m getting sick of calling me mates
And I’m looking for a heroine it’s all in vain
It’s the wrong day to phone girls they’re fiancees
I’d give them a ring but they’re all engaged
Can’t go for a ride 'cause my bike’s f*cked up I consult my neighbor and see if he can fix it Doesn’t think the problem can be solved today
'Cause it involves more labour than a Miliband trip
I give up all hope
It gets dramatic
I even watch a couple of soaps
Then a girl calls back and says «can we meet in an hour?»
Hmm
I’m guessing I’ll be needing a shower
This is not a happy song
I’ve got it badly wrong
It’s my chance and now it’s gone, Wo-oh
It’s a nice day for those plans
But time waits for no man
You’re try’na call your gang
They’re lying on the sand
And if sitting in your house is your business now
And to figure it out you sent signals out
But you fear they were ignored
You’re the chairman of the bored