a very superstitious guy,
I think it's bad luck and I'll tell you why.
I looked in the mirror early one morn'
And said, mirror, mirror,
who's the fairest of all?
I heard a voice behind my back
It said, it ain't you, baby,
I thought to myself, I'm going mad
I heard a laugh and the mirror, cracked
It said, seven years you got ahead
Seven years you wish you were dead
Seven years you're crying shit
Seven years you won't sleep at night
I said to myself it's just last night
I drank too much and I'm feeling quite right
So I took myself down to the bar below
I picked up a drink and away I go
I said, years you've got ahead
Seven years you wish you were dead
Seven years you'll fry and share
Seven years you won't sleep
I saw her coming to my side
I didn't say nothing but she asked for a like
I knew just what she was thinking about
I hesitated and the voice it chapped
It said a ten thousand years
Seven years you wish you were dead
And seven years you're crying chef
Seven years you won't sleep at night
and we talked for a spell
If you believe in fantasies, not in facts
You better watch out if you're
Seven years you wish you were dead
And seven years you're frying shit
Seven years you wish you were dead
Of seven years you're frying shit
Steeped in years, you won't sleep a day