he's a superstitious fella,
that's the rumour people throw around.
he often sits inside, twiddling his thumbs,
thinking of what could possibly go wrong.
there are whispers around town,
questions in media about how he acts.
people always talk about him,
and wonder if he'll ever admit it.
most say no, many say yes
and almost everyone, always
just says to ask.
but he's a superstitious fella,
that's the rumour that's true.
he sits inside, twiddles his thumbs,
plays with his hair and straightens his back.
their questions and thoughts about what he is
float around as he thinks about what everyone is saying
and wonders what could possibly go wrong.
a superstitious fella could never sit outside
in the coffee shop with his friends
or a bowling alley with his family.
but this superstitious fella is unique indeed,
because he sits inside and wishes the day away.
this superstitious fella bites his tongue and cheek,
because this superstitious fella is me.