Lyric Lucky

Mean Mr. Mustard says he s bored
of life in The District.
Can t afford the French Quarter high
says it gets old real quick
and he pales up next to me
scrawled on the pavement
It says: Son, time is all the Luck
you need.
And if I stay Lucky then my tongue
will stay tied, and I won t betray
the things that I hide.
There s not enough years underneath
this belt, for me to admit the way
that I felt.
Mean Mr. Mustard says don t be
the wave that crashes
From a sea of discontent, he says
he s wrestled with that blanket...
It leaves you cold and wet
any way you stretch it
Divine apathy! Disease of my youth
watch that you don t catch it.