[Intro] (Soft percussive guitar taps) (Gentle rhythmic strumming builds) [Verse 1] We were sitting at that bistro by the corner of the street You were looking like a vision, I was staring at my feet The candlelight was flickering, the wine was pouring red I had a million romantic things spinning in my head Then I felt a sudden pressure, a tectonic shift inside There was no place left to run and there was nowhere left to hide Just a subtle little "hiss" that turned into a heavy "thud" And the warmth began to spread just like a river made of mud. [Pre-Chorus] Oh, the waiter brought the check but I couldn't even stand I was holding on for dear life to the napkin in my hand. [Chorus] And I'm falling apart in the back of my jeans It’s the silent disaster of my broken self-esteem From the boardroom to the bedroom, yeah, it happens every time A sudden loss of dignity, a truly humid crime I’m just a man of straw held together by a thread And a pair of ruined trousers that I’m filling up with dread. [Verse 2] Three weeks later at the office, I was pitching to the board I was talking 'bout the metrics, I was hitting every chord The CEO was nodding, yeah, he liked the way I spoke Until my sphincter gave a signal that this wasn't all a joke A hot and heavy payload delivered to the seat I could see the smell was travelling, I could feel the rising heat I backed out of the room with a very awkward stride Leaving twenty-five executives confused and horrified. [Bridge] (Percussive guitar slaps intensify) (Harmonized backing vocals) It’s a curse, it’s a burden, it’s a heavy, heavy load Every time I’m feeling confident, I’m ready to explode (Ready to explode) I’ve spent five thousand dollars on new denim and new lace But I can’t outrun the demon that is living in this space. [Breakdown] (Music drops to a single soft guitar line) (Vocal becomes a whisper) I bought the heavy-duty wipes. I bought the charcoal-lined briefs. But the ghost is in the machine... And the machine... is leaking. [Final Chorus] Cause I'm falling apart in the back of my jeans It’s the silent disaster of my broken self-esteem From the altar to the after-party, happens every time A sudden loss of dignity, a truly humid crime I’m just a man of straw held together by a thread And a pair of ruined trousers that I’m filling up with dread. [Outro] (Slow, melancholic strumming) Yeah, I’m filling them up. (High harmony: Filling them up) I think I’ll just stay home tonight. (Final percussive slap) (Fade out)
