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.

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
leaves you cold and wet
any way you stretch it
Divine apathy! Disease of my youth
watch that you don't catch it

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.

And I'm the wave that crashes
From the sea that turns itself
inside out every chance I get to
see what it's like in hell

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

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