Ears for Eyes - Happy Birthday, Seymour

Seymour stepped out of the convenience store
Restroom and laughed real loud
With a belch, he called the cashier a whore
Then stumbled his way on out
Seymour, with your beer-stained tank top
Fire up that grill
Happy birthday, Seymour, hope fifty treats you well
Here's a roll of quarters, take the wife to Taco Bell
Happy birthday, Seymour, you greasy pile of filth
Why the hell did you leave stuff for your mower in your will?
Oh, I hate to say it, but times are different now
Your spotlight high school football days are gone
Quit clinging to the past, the roaring of the crowd
And throw another beer can on the lawn
Seymour, with your plaid cargo shorts
Fire up that grill
Happy birthday, Seymour, hope fifty treats you well
Cause we all know that forty-nine was quite the living hell
Happy birthday, Seymour, you greasy pile of grime
Get your life together, and quit wasting all your time

Written by:
Henry Kennedy

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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