city and colour
the grand optimist
I fear I'm dying of complications Complications due to things I've left undone That all my debts will be left unpaid Feel like a cripple without a cane I'm like a jack of all trades Who's a master of none Then there's my father He's always looking on the bright side Saying things like "Son, life just ain't that hard" He is the grand optimist I am the world's poor pessimist You give him burdensome times And he will escape unscarred I guess I take after my mother I guess I take after my mother I used to be quite resilient Gain no strength from counting the beads on a rosary And now the wound has begun to turn Another lesson that has gone unlearned But this is not a cry for pity or for sympathy