A Cockeyed Optimist

              A Cockeyed Optimist


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When the sky is a bright ca-nar-y yel-low

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I for-get ev-'ry cloud I've ev-er seen,

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So they call me a cock-eyed op-ti-mist

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Im-ma-ture and in-cur-a-bly green.

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I have heard peo-ple rant and rave and bel-low.

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That we're done and we might as well be dead,

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But I'm on-ly a cock-eyed op-ti-mist

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And I can't get it in-to my head.

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I hear the hu-man race is fall-ing on it's face

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And has-n't ver-y far to go,

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But ev-'ry whip-poor-will

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Is sell-ing me a bill,

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And tell-ing me it just ain't so.

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I would say life is just a bowl of jel-lo

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And ap-pear more in-tel-li-gent and smart,

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But I'm stuck like a dope,

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With a thing called hope,

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And I can't get it out of my heart!

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Not this heart!