I was down on my luck,
wanting to be green with envy,
but wanting was the problem from the get go,
I was not so green these days,
maybe green was not about jealousy or any of the things they said it had been about,
but it was about luck,
and I was short on that,
that was for sure,
why did you not give me the clovers you promised,
you said that I should have gone out and gotten them for myself
and I said I was young and tired of living a fast life,
so you said that I had misunderstood the meaning of being green all along,
it was about money,
and greed,
and resentment,
and it was about getting ahead,
and with a little bit of luck it could have been about so much more,
if not for you,
if not for your compass,
if not for you always trying to prop me up when it was unwanted,
Just let me be,
here at the end of a broken rainbow,
this is where I belong,
of this much I am sure
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