I'd share the streets with you, but all your streets are boring. I'd share the sheets with you, but all your dreams are boring too, and I'd sleep straight through. And year by year, we'd paint the glasses clear, and everything would be exactly what it appears. And drink by drink, we'd paint the roses pink. We'd stand around and clink our glasses and say darling aren't we dull, darling aren't we dull? Oh, and don't we have all we demand, all we ever wanted? Don't we walk through the streets hand in hand where all the world is naked and haunted? Oh understand that day by day we'd paint the city gray. We'd stand around and say the most boring goddamn things. And night by night we'd paint the linen white. We'd lie around and fight til the morning and say darling it's alright, I hate it when we fight.
Oh, Emily! Emily! Boring Emily!
And scene by scene you'll paint the meadows green, and everything will be exactly what it seems. And bed by bed you'll paint the linen red for him or her or them instead of painting it for me, my boring boring Emily.
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