Lyrics My Worst Day - Stanley Tucci, Daveed Diggs

My Worst Day

Wow, Beatrice, such a good story.
I must go.
But do go on for the others,
you blathering blowfish.
Ugh, look at this group of pathetic, trifling try-hards.
Why are they even here?
Oh, right, it’s my birthday party.
Next year, I’m not inviting myself.
(sung)
What kind of birthday is it
When they only came to visit
Just to secure lucrative forms of business
On my day?
On my day
Oh, how did my birthday become the worst of days?
Oh, here we go.
I’ve never felt at home in high society
You could always leave.
I scrapped, I fought up to the top
While they just coasted through
Oh, how did my birthday become the worst of days?
Ugh!
All they wanna talk about is rooftop gardens, their second homes,
and presidential pardons
Who last sunned in Santorini with a blue view
How their tax-deferred private equity grew
Jack got into Princeton
Have you tried white asparagus?
The judge’s a friend, so he threw out the evidence
This privilege, it’s drivel, an embarrassment
Nannies were the closest any of 'em ever came to being parented
It’s her birthday and it’s become the worst of days
I’m already counting down
Today, she feels the fakeness of society
Wanna barf on all these clowns
We only value what is in our bank accounts
Now we’re asking, how did her birthday become the worst of days?
Oh, shush, it’s my song, I’m airing out
If I die, none of them would miss me
To them, I’m just silly old rich Bitsy
Hold their noses up with their pinkies
Prawns and caviar, starin' at my Renoir
We came here to schmooze and glad-hand
Compliment back-hand
Seem friendly, then scoff and gossip
That’s how you live when you’re rich and accomplished
Oh, what kind of birthday is it?
Oh, my pain, Helen!
Oh, they only came to visit
Oh, they only came for one thing!
Just to secure lucrative forms of business
On my worst da-a-a-ay…