Untitled

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 your 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

Bet you didn't think you'd see me