The Dull And Boring Man by Áine


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The Song Challenge: Dull Men of the World Unite -- LONDON (Reuters) - Now there's a Web site for the man who has everything except a life. Promising to free its readers from the pressures of trying to be "in and trendy," www.dullmen.com reviews dull books, tells dull jokes and lists dull events for every month of the year. "In March, we like to watch maple trees during sugaring time. Sap dripping just right to watch -- the right pace, the right suspense," suggests the site run by the U.S.-based National Council of Dull Men. Laid out in shades of grey, black and white, it also offers a test with questions like "Do you like to watch airport luggage carousels?" and "Do you like English food?" to help readers find their true selves.

The Dull And Boring Man by Áine
(Tune: The Rambling Irishman)

I am a dull and boring man,
I sit and watch the grass grow,
I pick my nose and then my toes,
And contemplate my navel 'O'.

But to live fast I could not endure,
Like the men in the other cubicles,
To a dull grey land I sailed away,
To count the rings on my cuticles.

Chorus:
Right dull, dull and grey, dull, dull and grey,
Right dull, dull and grey down to my toes-o

So here I live in tones of beige,
An off-white house and a tan car,
I have no green plants, only brown,
My coffee is grey like road tar.

I have a dog, it's stiff and cold,
No, it's not dead, just resting,
I have a bird that won't fly away,
It's too bored to be bothered nesting.

Right dull, dull and grey, dull, dull and grey,
Right dull, dull and grey down to my toes-o

I had a girl once, don't you know,
She was known as Snoring Sally,
But when I got up to hit the mark,
Not even her could I rally.

She cracked one eye open with surprise,
Then yawned about my purpose,
"Go back to sleep," she said to me,
"You're too dull to perform the service."

Right dull, dull and grey, dull, dull and grey,
Right dull, dull and grey down to my toes-o

So, here I sit eating English peas,
I place them on my knife-o,
It's such great fun to see them fall,
I count them as they roll-o.

But to greater things I do aspire,
When the springtime rolls around again,
Gazing at the maple trees in my yard,
What a lark when the sap starts drippin'!

Right dull, dull and grey, dull, dull and grey,
Right dull, dull and grey down to my toes-o.