[01:10.38]Happy birthday, you're halfway to 60
[01:16.57]You have no land of your own
[01:19.04]A job you despise
[01:20.28]And a lover that's mean
[01:22.78]
[01:24.35]And you started noticing a disturbing thing
[01:29.72]
[01:31.85]Birds eating other birds just beyond the screen
[01:37.47]
[01:38.23]So you packed up your things and hopped on the freeway headed east
[01:43.66]
[01:44.85]And you drove for eight days aimlessly
[01:52.80]Telling yourself to be humble
[01:54.94]Singing to yourself to be free
[01:58.75]
[01:59.69]Being full aware that it's a middle aged crisis type thing
[02:05.78]
[02:06.40]And you drove 'til you saw a sign for a town called Luckey
[02:13.43]Spelled L-U-C-K-E-Y
[02:19.24]
[02:20.80]Where the sugar towers rise til the line and meet the streets
[02:25.80]
[02:27.49]Checked into a motel, slept on cardboard sheets
[02:33.19]
[02:34.80]I covered the bloodstained matress underneath
[02:41.05]
[02:41.87]to Went the local bar and you got yourself a drink
[02:47.78]
[02:52.97]Telling yourself to be humble
[02:55.35]
[02:56.13]Singing to yourself to be free
[02:59.32]It's a middle aged crisis type thing
[03:05.07]
[03:20.50]It was the most ragtag group you had ever seen
[03:26.38]
[03:27.19]A slender man with a moustache, a bow tie and nothing between
[03:33.19]
[03:34.32]Looking like a preacher son who had given in the devil-worshipping scene
[03:40.63]He was a real looker and he bought you a drink
[03:46.63]
[03:48.07]And you proceeded to tell him everything
[03:54.76]
[03:55.57]And you were getting a bit hysterical it seemed
[04:02.56]You laughed like a carburettor then you screamed
[04:08.82]
[04:09.56]Oh the doubt and the disbelief
[04:16.07]
[04:21.00]Telling yourself to be humble
[04:24.19]Singing to yourself to be free
[04:27.32]It's a middle aged crisis type thing
[04:32.69]
[04:34.31]And he told you how he came to be
[04:40.23]
[04:41.36]As an alterboy by his father's knees
[04:48.23]And how he came to lose his faith
[04:53.80]
[04:55.11]There was no touching but advances were made
[05:01.64]
[05:02.27]And his father's hand in slow motion it was approaching him
[05:08.64]
[05:09.39]And the doubt and disbelief crept over his young heart like the black ocean
[05:16.09]
[05:16.97]A stormcloud, a hurricane if you will
[05:21.47]
[05:23.65]A stormcloud, a hurricane
[05:27.65]
[05:34.91]Telling yourself to be humble
[05:38.15]Singing to yourself to be free
[05:41.28]It's a middle aged crisis type thing
[05:46.97]
[05:49.00]Go home lady, find yourself happy
[05:55.19]It's just a middle aged crisis type thing
[06:01.07]
[06:02.44]It's a middle aged crisis type thing
[06:07.93]
[06:09.44]It's a middle aged crisis type thing
[06:14.57]
[06:16.15]It's a middle aged crisis type thing
[06:23.14]
[06:23.71]It's a middle aged crisis type thing
[06:29.40]
[06:30.52]It's a middle aged crisis type thing

Happy birthday, you're halfway to 60
You have no land of your own
A job you despise
And a lover that's mean
And you started noticing a disturbing thing
Birds eating other birds just beyond the screen
So you packed up your things and hopped on the freeway headed east
And you drove for eight days aimlessly
Telling yourself to be humble
Singing to yourself to be free
Being full aware that it's a middle aged crisis type thing
And you drove 'til you saw a sign for a town called Luckey
Spelled L-U-C-K-E-Y
Where the sugar towers rise til the line and meet the streets
Checked into a motel, slept on cardboard sheets
I covered the bloodstained matress underneath
to Went the local bar and you got yourself a drink
Telling yourself to be humble
Singing to yourself to be free
It's a middle aged crisis type thing
It was the most ragtag group you had ever seen
A slender man with a moustache, a bow tie and nothing between
Looking like a preacher son who had given in the devil-worshipping scene
He was a real looker and he bought you a drink
And you proceeded to tell him everything
And you were getting a bit hysterical it seemed
You laughed like a carburettor then you screamed
Oh the doubt and the disbelief
Telling yourself to be humble
Singing to yourself to be free
It's a middle aged crisis type thing
And he told you how he came to be
As an alterboy by his father's knees
And how he came to lose his faith
There was no touching but advances were made
And his father's hand in slow motion it was approaching him
And the doubt and disbelief crept over his young heart like the black ocean
A stormcloud, a hurricane if you will
A stormcloud, a hurricane
Telling yourself to be humble
Singing to yourself to be free
It's a middle aged crisis type thing
Go home lady, find yourself happy
It's just a middle aged crisis type thing
It's a middle aged crisis type thing
It's a middle aged crisis type thing
It's a middle aged crisis type thing
It's a middle aged crisis type thing
It's a middle aged crisis type thing