When the sky is a bright canary yellow
I forget every cloud I've ever seen
So they call me a cockeyed optimist
Immature and incurably green
I have heard people rant and rave and bellow
That we're done and we might as well be dead
But I'm only a cockeyed optimist
And I can can't get it into my head
I hear the human race
Is falling on its face
And hasn't very far to go
But every whip-poor-will
Is selling me a bill
And tell me it just ain't so
I could say life is just a bowl of jello
And appear more intelligent and smart
But I'm suck like a dope
With a thing called hope
And I can't get it into my heart
Not this heart

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