Maybe

Maybe I'll get bored again, like I always do

And maybe you'll get tired of all my cryin' and yellin' too

I'll talk and talk and talk and talk, and then I'll talk some more

And you'll get sick of the very voice that you used to adore

You'll get mad with quiet fire then quickly bottle up

And everything will piss you off and everything will suck

We'll blow up over stupid things, the little things we do

Then say some shit that we don't mean, (But really things we do)

I'll always be sorry, and you'll always hate yourself

And you'll bitch about the world while I bitch about my health