The Prosaics - Romance Isn't Dead, It's Buried

A weekday morning in the barber shop
The hairdresser makes no attempt to impress ya
And you like it
All weekend mourning
Ruined by your boring friend's plan to go out again
The taxi driver makes no small talk
You're not in love
You just realise you don't like talking to people all that much
That'll work with me
Yeah that'll work with me
That'll work with me
We don't fuck because we're horny
We have sex because we're sad
We don't make love we make the time pass a little faster
Last time I accidentally bit your tongue and you got mad
She doesn't need a decent bonin'
She just need that serotonin
He doesn't feel the need to cum
Just don't want the feeling he needs to leave
Falling in love with strangers on the bus
Fatal romanticism mis-diagnosed as lust
This pedal-stool is the upper deck for fools
The closing doors they are my luck
Left alone at the bus depot as you pull away
Remember me and write me something edgy in the minor key
That'll work with me
Yeah that'll work with me
That'll work with me
Yeah that'll work with me
We don't fuck because we're horny
We have sex because we're sad
We don't make love we make the time pass a little faster
Last time I accidentally bit your tongue and you got mad
She doesn't need a decent bonin'
She just need that serotonin
He doesn't feel the need to cum
Just don't want the feeling he needs to leave
Romance isn't dead, it's buried
Romance isn't dead, it's buried
Romance isn't dead, it's buried
Romance isn't dead, it's buried

Written by:
Alexander Williams

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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