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lyrics

I didn't grow up to become an astronaut
Or anything else that a child want to be
A time-sucking job and a paycheck is all I got
And just enough time set aside for TV

Where's my yacht?
My million dollars?
My shirts all fitted with golden collars?

Finest schnapps, five-figure proof
And the bathtub built onto my roof?

I don't have a field
Just a mop
And paint to be peeled
A ticket to be paid
'Cause I didn't yield
And a bunch of crap that's built up on my windshield

I didn't have any idea that the future would be like this
Uh...

And you know that I'm a real forgetter
And a professional down-sitter
How'd I ever think I could become a homerun hitter

I didn't grow up to become an astronaut
Unless you've accounted for my spacing out a lot

credits

from I'm sorry this took so long, Mr. Parks​.​.​. (Adam, the songwriter from Texas), released January 28, 2024

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Adam Thorton Tyler, Texas

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