I don’t do so well, living in this basement cell
I don’t feel so good, yeah, not that you can tell
I was rotting here, long before my freshman year
now I’m 21 and I fear the end is near
I’m going back to school
I’m gonna make the grade
I’m gonna get a real job when I graduate
and then I’ll call you up to tell you on the first day I get paid.
Back in ’93, high school was a breeze for me
So much I didn’t know, so much I couldn’t see
Graduating class-finished in the better half
Tell me what that means when the others barely passed