Mean Mr. Mustard says he's bored

of life in the district.

He can't afford the French Quarter high

says it gets old real quick.

And he pales up next to me

and scrawled on the pavement

It says: son, time is all the luck you need.



Chorus: 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



Chorus



And I'm the wave that crashes....

From a sea that turns itself

And inside out every chance I get to

see what it's like in Hell....Hell



Chorus