April Fools Day Morn - Loudon Wainwright III

At twelve midnight I called my mom

On April Fool’s Day morn

We two are close sometimes I think

Because I was breech-born

The doctor reached inside of her

He turned me 'round and pulled me out

I emerged her bloody babe

His slap produced my shout

At twelve midnight I telephoned

On April Fool’s Day morn

I told mom I’d be home late

Then I hung up the horn

I went back to the party then

I got drunk with all the boys

Our florid faces shown so bright

We made a lot of noise

By 2am we all were drunk

On April Fool’s Day morn

We had insulted many folk

Garnered plenty scorn

We boys, some girls and some hangers-on

Formed a jolly caravan

We headed for my canyon home

To make our fool’s day stand

Tempers flared and tears were shed

On April Fool’s Day morn

Tequila ripped and on a tear

My party shirt got torn

I tried to take a woman down

Right there on the bathroom floor

She refused, I threw her out

Screaming, «Bitch!»

and «Whore!»

I threatened one poor hanger-on

With a knife he was warned

By 5 a.m. just three were left

On April Fool’s Day morn

An English fool, an Irish fool

And me, their foolish Yankee host

We kissed and cried and swore our love

And drank one final toast

By 6 a.m., those two passed out

On April Fool’s Day morn

I drove to Santa Monica

A girl there got me warm

By 10 a.m., I drove back home

I rousted out my half-dead friends

We said goodbye with downcast eyes

So sheepish in the end

My mother came out of her room

On April Fool’s Day morn

She spied her sorry breech-born

Hungover and forlorn

I am too old, too large, too close

To crawl up on my mother’s knee

So eggs and bacon, coffee, toast

Were placed in front of me