The Cynical Optimists Ballad

These are the days when one feels most lost, when the world is pressing down, and they just won't let go
and it is within these days of trial that no one really knows what to say, so we all go about our business in our usual way
Distracted by entertainment, and by constraining possibilities, but force feeding lies, and slathering up our pores in disgusting mineral waters
We are but the small insects on the face of the universe, and our inconsequential worth is never tested, only assumed by the authorities
I do not pretend to have an answer, nor do I truly pose any questions, I only survive on the hope that we can survive
the truth won't set us free, and lies are not the key, but this isn't a prison, this is a comfortable bed we've refused to get away from
Silently we lay our heads on our pillows and force ourselves into dreams of the most ridiculous natures, and nothing can stop us, if it keeps us free from worry and damnation
The preacher man can stand on his hands, and spout off tribulation, but nothing of the sort will come to pass, without first he being the one who brought it on
The false prophets of psychic probability are no fortune tellers, only gamblers of history, gamblers of world affair, they read the cards, and saw the tells, and made an educated guess on the route that even the most uneducated citizen could have made, and yet we all applaud these liars for it
Grim times indeed and many things to falsify, but I will not falsify my claim
I'm walled up, bricked down, and battered out cold on the other side, you can't get in and i can't get up, and we'll both rot in our filth because we didn't take the time to just say hello
Alone and bewildered the men of passion truly are, broken inside their own minds, there cage of torture that no one wants to set fit in, but behind all that shrubbery, there's a nest of flowers
A place resides in most of us, and definitely not all, for blackened hearts are plentiful in this land of terror and joy.
So sing your songs, and dance your dance, and go on and write what you will, because no matter how dark tomorrow is, you have today
So bring it on, the worlds still full of possibillity, i refuse to let second grade educated prophets tell me whats to be, explosions galore or heavens of hell, and I'm still trying to drink from the half full glass, even if its a quarter empty
Ill seek the truths in my own right, as if i'll live forever, and i'll hope for better tomorrows during better todays, so bombard me with terrible information, slam my head into tragedies,
We can always stand up straight amonst the thickets, and hold up a rose, for even sunshine casts shadows, but you only step once or twice to be warm again
I'm no scholar, no truth poet, no grand wizard of knowledge, but I am a human being, and i'll be happy till im not, and ill live till im not, and ill be till im not, and ill love till i rot, and that's the damndest truth of the whole wide universe from here to you, and back to the far reaches of the moon
smile today, cry tomorrow maybe, but don't think on that, smile, smile, smile.