It's tradition In my house To bring the boy over Unannounced On a mission For a spouse
Don't you smile too big Or he'll ask for you hand And you'll end up alone and endowed But it doesn't matter anyhow I don't bat for your team now
Now I'm flying Windows down Burning grass on the temple grounds
One foot out Shoot me down Mourn my death on the news Blame my mom and tattoos And keep saving your spit for the drought
And I pray to a God that doesn't care At least not enough to be there Oh I'm not afraid of dying But I swear to God if I lose This self-proclaimed quitter Will have a bone to pick with you