Bad luck seems to follow me
I’m told I should take it easy
And so I take it easy
When I’m struggling to hit my target
I’m told not to give up on it
And so I don’t give up on it
Why, why, why, why me?
Must his fresh red blood render me empty of
My own natural resource?
Good luck seems to avoid me
I’m told what will be, will be
What it will be
When I’m struggling to know why it’s worth it
I’m told to just roll with the punches
And appreciate your options
Why, why, why, why me?
Must that crisp clear sweat make me so uncomfortable with
My own natural resource?
Time pushed me faster
Just to rush past that grain of sand
But I am much too impatient
To wait
Until I feel better
My mistakes do not taste too bitter
For me now