They say bad things come in three
But they don’t tell you which ones count
Where to start, where to end
Can we skip one? Can we round up?
Can we please just catch our breath
Before you sound off?
Close ours eyes for just one minute
When we start to think this is it
That we made it, there’s still the phone call
It’s not your fault that we can’t stall
Constant shouting, always counting
Way past three, won’t fool me
I’ve been keeping score
Took three, then took three more
I’m not sure this one’s rounded
Though I’m not sure how you’re counting
Is his one mine? Are my two hers?
If this is a new set, you’re still short
But we’re running out of goodbyes
Haven’t seen a real clear sky
For nearly half my life
I’d like just one before my turn
To get added to the rest
Before I lay to rest