Mean Mr. Mustard says he`s bored with life in the dead stream. Can`t afford French corner high, says it gets old real quick. And he pails up next to me and scrawled on the pavement it says, Son, time is all the luck you need. Chorus: But 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 build 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. Divide at the feet disease of my youth and watch that you don`t catch it. Chorus: I`m the wave that crashes from a sea that turns it self. I`m inside out every chance I get to see what it`s like in hell. Chorus: Chorus: There`s not enough years underneath this build for me to admit the way that I felt
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