All my life, I felt wrong
So it's my right to have it gone
I woke up late the day I died
It's my right, a thousand pounds of light
Unrehearsed, undefined
I got the microphone, but nothing comes to mind
Came across an old photograph
But all it did was crush me
There is no great plan, enjoy knowing that
The world is flat, some will
Unrehearsed, undefined
I got the microphone, but nothing comes to mind
Nothing comes to mind, yeah
It's my right to be misbegotten
I fucked it up, but you have forgotten now
And I don't know how
All the years, they blend together
In L.A., there is no weather
So maybe, maybe that's why
Maybe that's why
Maybe that's why
Maybe that's why
Maybe that's why
