Music

Why can’t I write a happy song
With bluebirds singing all day long
Why do the storm clouds hide the sun
In all my songs

Why can’t I sing of honey days
A song of joy, a song of praise
Why must I sing of all the ways
That love goes wrong

I may write a verse that is funny
But mostly laments are my thing
For somehow the song of the honey
Seems less than the song of the sting Why can’t I chant the positive
Because I find it hard to live
With all the hurts that love can give
So says my song

And earth is fair and flesh is fine
There’s wine to share for Auld Lang Syne
But death is still the bottom line
So says my song