Sometimes we may feel so despondent,
And our troubles appears quite a few,
The Old World seems all topsy turvy,
And nothing is right in our view.
We may grumble and grouch at the weather
If it's stormy, too cold or too hot;
But vain are our sad lamentations,
There's naught we can alter one jot.
We humans sometimes are an enigma,
(I trust this remark you'll excuse)
One day we are so energetic,
The next may be down in the blues.
It makes matters worse by complaining,
No matter how languid we feel,
We're not all alone in the struggle,
But just one more cog in life's wheel.
But when our depression is over,
And we feel like uniting in song,
May we say with our deepest conviction,
'Twas myself, not the world that was wrong.