Watsky - Lucky lyrics
[Watsky - Lucky lyrics]
It's the end of a very long
Week I'm sitting in the
30th row of a 747 from Dallas to Los Angeles
The captain has signaled our final decent
My seat
Back has returned to the up right position
My tray table has been stowed
I'm finally going home when a gurgle
Under my seat buckle tells me that lunch
Is gearing up for a second appearance
A frantic search teaches me
That DELTA airlines
Doesn't regularly restock seat pockets with
Sick bags, so I do the only
Thing logical I can think of
And try to Magyar my Sky Mall
Catalog into a make shift haversack
But before I can crease the outside edge
My body betrays me, which means that
I'm sitting there, wearing my stomach
Acid as a loose tuxedo
While the entire plane including
The hot girls across the
Aisle whisper and gag
Necks crane as we make our
Torturous decent into LAX and
As the entire air jumbo jet
Deplanes slowly around me
A thought crosses my mind
How do you not restock
A plane with sick bags
You INCOMPETENT AIRLINE
I'm giving my plastic wings back!
And then a second thought crosses my mind, I
Think this story is good enough for Cosmo
So lucky me for the life experience
Lucky no one I know will have to
Find out about this, lucky
The plane didn't crash
Lucky for planes in the first place
I mean if I had thrown up
On myself in a covered wagon
Some settler would have been all like
"AYE! Aye we brocus, spocus, a mile back
And if you don't quit sulking
And help pull us
We might not be able to ford this
River before night fall in
Which this cause you're
Going to smell mighty good to the Grizzlies"
So lucky the atmosphere puts
Planes on it's back
The airs so thick it bumps against
Out ears that's how we hear
Lucky there's so much carbon around
Lucky for granite, granite has done
Big things for us
Lucky conditions on this planet were perfect
For live cocktail to turn a couple of
Atoms into a amoeba, into a cheetah
Lucky that one monkey finally got his act
Together and turned into a dude
Don't forget the vocal chords, the lungs
Lucky
The opposable thumbs, the disposable mans
And the glands that's make lanolin that
Dismantle hand radios and bands
That make videos for jams that
Witty oats to brands
And lucky for that one reunion
On Cape Cod where I
First had to understand my fathers
Side of the family
Some say if you listen closely to
Those old wooden hallways you
Can hear the ghost of Woody
Allen groaning at night
"I'm not dead yet you schmucks" the living
They gather around the dining room
Table, sharing, sharp class
Saying lucky, lucky, lucky my ass
You calls this locks fresh water
Salt water either you lie
The salmon so dry it must be the
Kind they catch in the sky
Oh Steven's health oh well yes they removed a
Tumour however that was the cancer's tumor
Yeah cancers can grow tumors
Too smarty guy, doctor Rubén
Removed the cancer's tumor, the
Original cancer is now malignant
In the skin cell
The couldn't tell his mole cause his
Misalignment stole the pigment and he
Looked like an albino with three
Shoulders he tried to dye
Himself back to normal in a
Bath of coca cola but
Now he's got dimentcha and he
Thinks he's Ale Roka
Oui it savsha and degoya hey
I can't complain he's better
Then Roderick forecasting rain that's
How they always end the story in my family
With I can't complain
Grandma you just complained for 45
Straight minutes without breathing
Or blinking, the nice girl is trying to
Take our drink order
If I could get a word in edge
Wise I'd say lucky the stomach flu
Lucky that 2
Month itch I'd rather not talk about
Lucky because
Perfectly healthy is not a neutral state
Perfectly healthy is a perpetual full
Body youforia but this
Is my fathers family and
My complaining about their
Complaining is both concrete prove
That in one of
Them an unfair generalization of
A proud people take my dad
You know lucky he never caught
A zip gun ricochet to
The face but if you lean in you can
See a little blue dimple on
His chin from fourth
Grade sometime in the 1950s
When trying to figure
Out how to get ink into a ball point pen
He accidentally slammed the Bic into
His jaw tattooing himself for
Life and lucky he did cause
That wasn't a ball
Point pen at all, it was a flag pole
Ten year old Paul Merman
Watsky was claiming that
Little patch of skin for himself and
Held his ground even as this unfamiliar man
Creeps up on 70 around him
I can see it in my dad's eyes every time
He laughs at one of his own idiotic puns
Everywhere he laments the over bearing Jewish
Mother that made him wanna tip out
Of his Manhattan apartment window like
A potted plant, and lucky he
Backed away from the edge
And not lucky just because
His reproductive equipment was
The genetic heat of my eventual existence
But also because smiles
Are delinquent teenagers, they
Like to gather in large groups
They leave marks on the wall
Of your face to tell
You of a life well lived
They're hard to get rid of
But once they're gone you wonder
Why you pushed them away
You wonder into their dusty old rooms
At night hold back tears
At the edge of their bed
And sit there rocking back
And fourth thinking lucky the bend
In your box bringed and
Sent two strong swimmers into the
World as decent sons so lucky San Francisco
Lucky the lights over the
Harbor, lucky we're so young, both of us
Dad because time is like
A million mile wooden
Dock and we're at the very end
The very young end
You're practically dangling
Our toes in the water, even if you're a
Hundred years old you're still dangling
And you'll
Shoot back, you're damn right I'm dangling
In all the wrong places
You're completely missing my point
Because I just vomited
In my lap in an overbooked jumbo jet
Sitting here smelling extremely human
But, I still have my feet on the ground
So lucky we're not live stock, lucky we're
Programmed to think babies are cute
Otherwise we'd probably ignore
Them and they'd
Crawl anomalously in large packs
America is a plump kid in
Husky overalls and I
Plan to live off the fat of the land
This country is a big cupcake
Straddling two oceans and
Lucky it wasn't me and you and someone
Had to fight and die so we could
Rot our teeth on the frosting
This planet is made mostly
Of carbon and Teflon and one day we'll slide
Off it like so much burnt stir fry
There's a lot that goes
Into a moss-covered rock
Lucky there are so many cool bugs under
Them and it sucks that we
Eat a few by mistake at night
But at least we don't crawl
Into spider's mouths while we're sleeping
A web of
Impossible coincidences has crystallized
Into this moment, look around
You, history is a foot
This nights smells like
No other ever had or ever quite will
So don't hold your nose when you walk past me
I just murmured myself to get everyone on
This plane an amusing party story so
You better thank those lucky stars, all 3
Hundred billion of them, lucky you, lucky me
Week I'm sitting in the
30th row of a 747 from Dallas to Los Angeles
The captain has signaled our final decent
My seat
Back has returned to the up right position
My tray table has been stowed
I'm finally going home when a gurgle
Under my seat buckle tells me that lunch
Is gearing up for a second appearance
A frantic search teaches me
That DELTA airlines
Doesn't regularly restock seat pockets with
Sick bags, so I do the only
Thing logical I can think of
And try to Magyar my Sky Mall
Catalog into a make shift haversack
But before I can crease the outside edge
My body betrays me, which means that
I'm sitting there, wearing my stomach
Acid as a loose tuxedo
While the entire plane including
The hot girls across the
Aisle whisper and gag
Necks crane as we make our
Torturous decent into LAX and
As the entire air jumbo jet
Deplanes slowly around me
A thought crosses my mind
How do you not restock
A plane with sick bags
You INCOMPETENT AIRLINE
I'm giving my plastic wings back!
And then a second thought crosses my mind, I
Think this story is good enough for Cosmo
So lucky me for the life experience
Lucky no one I know will have to
Find out about this, lucky
The plane didn't crash
Lucky for planes in the first place
I mean if I had thrown up
On myself in a covered wagon
Some settler would have been all like
"AYE! Aye we brocus, spocus, a mile back
And if you don't quit sulking
And help pull us
We might not be able to ford this
River before night fall in
Which this cause you're
Going to smell mighty good to the Grizzlies"
So lucky the atmosphere puts
Planes on it's back
The airs so thick it bumps against
Out ears that's how we hear
Lucky there's so much carbon around
Lucky for granite, granite has done
Big things for us
Lucky conditions on this planet were perfect
For live cocktail to turn a couple of
Atoms into a amoeba, into a cheetah
Lucky that one monkey finally got his act
Together and turned into a dude
Don't forget the vocal chords, the lungs
Lucky
The opposable thumbs, the disposable mans
And the glands that's make lanolin that
Dismantle hand radios and bands
That make videos for jams that
Witty oats to brands
And lucky for that one reunion
On Cape Cod where I
First had to understand my fathers
Side of the family
Some say if you listen closely to
Those old wooden hallways you
Can hear the ghost of Woody
Allen groaning at night
"I'm not dead yet you schmucks" the living
They gather around the dining room
Table, sharing, sharp class
Saying lucky, lucky, lucky my ass
You calls this locks fresh water
Salt water either you lie
The salmon so dry it must be the
Kind they catch in the sky
Oh Steven's health oh well yes they removed a
Tumour however that was the cancer's tumor
Yeah cancers can grow tumors
Too smarty guy, doctor Rubén
Removed the cancer's tumor, the
Original cancer is now malignant
In the skin cell
The couldn't tell his mole cause his
Misalignment stole the pigment and he
Looked like an albino with three
Shoulders he tried to dye
Himself back to normal in a
Bath of coca cola but
Now he's got dimentcha and he
Thinks he's Ale Roka
Oui it savsha and degoya hey
I can't complain he's better
Then Roderick forecasting rain that's
How they always end the story in my family
With I can't complain
Grandma you just complained for 45
Straight minutes without breathing
Or blinking, the nice girl is trying to
Take our drink order
If I could get a word in edge
Wise I'd say lucky the stomach flu
Lucky that 2
Month itch I'd rather not talk about
Lucky because
Perfectly healthy is not a neutral state
Perfectly healthy is a perpetual full
Body youforia but this
Is my fathers family and
My complaining about their
Complaining is both concrete prove
That in one of
Them an unfair generalization of
A proud people take my dad
You know lucky he never caught
A zip gun ricochet to
The face but if you lean in you can
See a little blue dimple on
His chin from fourth
Grade sometime in the 1950s
When trying to figure
Out how to get ink into a ball point pen
He accidentally slammed the Bic into
His jaw tattooing himself for
Life and lucky he did cause
That wasn't a ball
Point pen at all, it was a flag pole
Ten year old Paul Merman
Watsky was claiming that
Little patch of skin for himself and
Held his ground even as this unfamiliar man
Creeps up on 70 around him
I can see it in my dad's eyes every time
He laughs at one of his own idiotic puns
Everywhere he laments the over bearing Jewish
Mother that made him wanna tip out
Of his Manhattan apartment window like
A potted plant, and lucky he
Backed away from the edge
And not lucky just because
His reproductive equipment was
The genetic heat of my eventual existence
But also because smiles
Are delinquent teenagers, they
Like to gather in large groups
They leave marks on the wall
Of your face to tell
You of a life well lived
They're hard to get rid of
But once they're gone you wonder
Why you pushed them away
You wonder into their dusty old rooms
At night hold back tears
At the edge of their bed
And sit there rocking back
And fourth thinking lucky the bend
In your box bringed and
Sent two strong swimmers into the
World as decent sons so lucky San Francisco
Lucky the lights over the
Harbor, lucky we're so young, both of us
Dad because time is like
A million mile wooden
Dock and we're at the very end
The very young end
You're practically dangling
Our toes in the water, even if you're a
Hundred years old you're still dangling
And you'll
Shoot back, you're damn right I'm dangling
In all the wrong places
You're completely missing my point
Because I just vomited
In my lap in an overbooked jumbo jet
Sitting here smelling extremely human
But, I still have my feet on the ground
So lucky we're not live stock, lucky we're
Programmed to think babies are cute
Otherwise we'd probably ignore
Them and they'd
Crawl anomalously in large packs
America is a plump kid in
Husky overalls and I
Plan to live off the fat of the land
This country is a big cupcake
Straddling two oceans and
Lucky it wasn't me and you and someone
Had to fight and die so we could
Rot our teeth on the frosting
This planet is made mostly
Of carbon and Teflon and one day we'll slide
Off it like so much burnt stir fry
There's a lot that goes
Into a moss-covered rock
Lucky there are so many cool bugs under
Them and it sucks that we
Eat a few by mistake at night
But at least we don't crawl
Into spider's mouths while we're sleeping
A web of
Impossible coincidences has crystallized
Into this moment, look around
You, history is a foot
This nights smells like
No other ever had or ever quite will
So don't hold your nose when you walk past me
I just murmured myself to get everyone on
This plane an amusing party story so
You better thank those lucky stars, all 3
Hundred billion of them, lucky you, lucky me