I was born on April 41st,
Hydroplaning down the coast in the back of a hearse.
The birds didn't sing, they were feeling insecure
So they never got to know me, jealous of my crow's feet.
I grew up a karma spoiled kid
The universe rewarding for what I never did
Then again suffice to say, always haunted in a way
Taking bean and cheese burrito advice
But so far so good.
You and I, we're ahead of our time
We've got no need to explain
Hogtied to infinity's landmine with low charge and love stains
We're bound for etcetera tacked to the back ends of our names
I guess I'm excited...
Will I have a nice day? Well, I'll never know
My odd birthday makes for an awkward horoscope
That controls me, lulls me,
Bugs then ignores me all night and straight through the morning
Til l'm a stale scone.
I'm a stale scone.
