Testo My Horoscope Said It Would Be A Bad Year

i sit at this tableand i stare at my handsevery day they growthey look more like my dad'si trace his veins they runup and down my armsfrom where i'm sittin'i trace sixty more yearsand i've learned to count on nothin''cause most times it's all i gotand all i see is memy roots are startin' to rotall you want to do is winwhen you're losin'you say you want some competitionwell i'm not that strongjust put away your ladderi'm happy where i ammy fate seems clear to me when out of my handsand sometimes i feel like a geniusother times i feel like a fooland my friends indulge mewhen most times i think i know it allbut mostly i feel like a little boyi'd rather feel how much i feeli don't wanna make excusesbut my horoscope said it would be a bad yearand sometimes i see myself gettin' killedon one of these mysterious streetsand then i have nothin' to live up toand no expectations to meetall you want to do is winwhen you're losin'you say you want some competitionwell i'm not that strongjust put away your ladderi'm happy where i ammy fate seems clear to me when out of my hands