Boyfriend Material

Am I just out of my depth here I wonder

I left my heart out, she got my number

I don’t mean like she’s gona ring me or owt

I mean like she’s on to me, she’s sussed me out

Like none of my usual antics affect her

She’s got an arrogant bullshit detector

Asshole protector

Try to correct her

Kicks me a kerb, rings her dad to collect her

Every 10 seconds the goalposts are moving

Started a loser, now I’m improving

Spend all my life trying to get to her standard

Then when I’m standard, that becomes standard

There’s a new standard, I’m left stranded

Wondering how in the hell I’m still standing

Climbing a staircase without a landing

Leave the labels out, show the branding

I’m fucking worth something

Real deal

Any old meathead can pay for a meal

Write his own name on Asda’s own flowers

Sit chatting in the sunshine for hours

I can do that if I put my mind to it

Romance isn’t dead when I do it

Write your hopes down, draw a line through it

Write them lower and I’ll get round to it.

I’m boyfriend material

Cold milk on your cereal

I won’t give you lovesick blues

I’m something more venereal

Not lovesick, disease

I’m down on my knees

I’ll go as low as you say so

I’m broken, trying to please

Hopeless apologies

Fog of good impression cleared

Late honeymoon period

Oscars for the smiles we’re faking

Sound of cheap promises breaking

Failing tests I wasn’t taking

You alright? Your voice is shaking

I remember when your eyes were blue

Now they’re red and kinda swollen

Endless happy days I’ve stolen

Richie, Ralph and Fonzarelli

Stood staring out of your telly

Like, “Mate what have you become?”

You took a live one, made her numb

You can’t sit with us

You don’t fit with us

She’s hard work. Trying your best

Sounds like shit to us

Not you, it’s me, a cop out

Phoney high school drop out

You could stop the rot

If you weren’t such a dirty stop out

Check your watch
Grab your crotch

One, two, three o’clock, four o’clock, rock

Said you’d be home by ten, you cock

Out of date milk on your cereal

Phoning in what should be real

You’re worth something more ethereal

I’m not quite boyfriend material