When the day gets so cloudy,
With no sign of a silver lining;
When the voices in my head gets rowdy,
And my will to live is repining;
When it blows hard, the tempest of life,
And my feet dance on a tumultuous ground;
When regrets cut deeper than the knife
And it seems for the end I am bound;
When my world is bereft of its humour,
Caught up in an endless strife;
Rather than weep myself into stupor
I would just say: it's a fine, fine life.
