My Worst Day - Stanley Tucci, Daveed Diggs

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…