Right to Be Misbegotten

All my life, I felt wrong So it's my right to have it gone I woke up late the day I died It's my right, a thousand pounds of light Unrehearsed, undefined I've got the microphone But nothin' comes to mind Came across an old photograph But all it did was crush me There's no great plan No joy in knowing that The world is flat Some won't mind Unrehearsed, undefined I've got the microphone But nothin' comes to mind Well, nothin' comes to mind, yeah It's my right to be misbegotten I fuck it up, but you have forgotten now And I don't know how All the years, they blend together In L.A., there is no weather So maybe, maybe that's why Baby, that's why Baby, that's why Baby, that's why Baby, that's why