D-Sisive - Brian Wilson lyrics

[Verse 1] Wouldn't it be nice if I were younger Rewind a couple years and find hunger Now I stick another candle in the cake Another year without an album to my name All I do is sleep with a blanket on my face Wake up and add on to my weight f** tryin' put a salad on my plate You can't make friends with salad anyways... Twelve songs could have me on a road And one hit could have me going gold Trust me - they had me on a road Dad yelling "Los Angeles is on the phone!" Whatever Happened to the Music was the song They thought would get me on the Rolling Stone A rant over looped Green Day guitars And all they need were eleven more But I was bored The sh** was too easy I'm the motherf**in' man is what I believed Listening to you was beneath me Big-headed like Christina Ricci I slept and let a couple months past me Whatever happened to the music is what they asked me I told you - I'm writin', chill son I'm finishing tomorrow, I'm tired Time to go to bed - Brian Wilson [Verse 2] I started at the bottom and I stayed there Felt like I laid there for eight years Slept deeper than the end that I dove in Desmond Howell in a bathrobe, soakin' Confused, forgot what I wanted Lost the spark that I had when I started Burned out, exhausted Went from potential to false promises to gone I vanished into thin wind slow A fat guy in a ripped little coat Dad died and I slipped in a coma I was awake but I listened to no one I was distant, I was pissed off I was the last living Christoff And I was angry with the other side of my window A side that I wasn't built for A side that I wasn't fit for Convinced I was better off indoors Until my pills ran out and my k**ed buzz Makes me sick till I refill my script-up My only reason to sit up And I'm supposed to pen songs to some kickdrums? Give me the night and I'll finish up I'm tired, time to go to bed Brian Wilson [Outro] Friday's child Born a little ugly Friday's child Good looks pa**ed her by Friday's child Makes something look like nothing