I'm not sure if it's the music, the vocal performance, or the lyrics, but I feel like I'm channeling the 90s a bit with this song. Perhaps it's the lazy lilt I sang with, or the chunky four chord guitar (actually i think I played five, but nobody's counting...), or maybe it's the attitude of ennui that was so pervasive in certain kinds of music back then. Singing about boredom really is like squeezing blood from a stone. But I'm really singing about futility here. Maybe futility is too strong a word. I'm singing about trying to live with routine, about finding the right ways to do stuff even though the right ways have always seemed pretty wrong. There's something a bit wry and rebellious here, even for a song that feels like a cartoon cloud floating above somebody's head. I stick by it. I like this one.
lyrics
Good ways to be forgotten
Good ways to pay your old dividends
Good day to clean out your pocket
Good day to squeeze all the blood from the stone
Good day to sleep in
Good ways to become a martyr
Good day to wax like a poet instead
Good day to erase like an arsonist
Good morning to lean on a fresh coat of paint
Good day to be late
Good day to be late
Good day to be late
Good ways
Good ways