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.