I always get the short end of the stick.
Walking is harder if there is shattered glass on your soles.
I used to wear my lucky socks, but one of them went missing.
Now I wear ones with holes.
But you and your four-leafed heart,
You and your golden, your sunshine haze,
When we walk you find money as I walk below ladders,
And yet we can’t be apart.
I am your amulet of doom,
Your customized black cat,
Your anti-Elvis charm,
And when I walk alone,
They whisper “no rabbit foot can cure this”
But you and your four-leafed heart,
Your silver smile, like a Christmas Day,
You put me in your pocket, and around me, your arm,
And now it’s warm.
I guess most people say I have bad luck,
But to me it just cancels out, because I found you,
You and your four-leafed heart,
And that’s what it’s all about.
