So you’ve squandered your musical potential,
flunked out of some fancy private school,
pawned an expensive Christmas present,
burned every book your father sent,
and here you are, sitting in this bar, trying to look tough.
You’re a prodigal son, but you’re not hungry enough
to head back home. That’s what I think.
Hey, buddy, can you buy me another drink?
Honestly, I wouldn’t go back to your parent’s place.
They sound like snobs. You’ll always be a disgrace
to them. Forget the reference to the prodigal son.
I think you’re cool. You wanna be an electrician?
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