| When the skies are brighter canary yellow
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| I forget ev’ry cloud I’ve ever seen
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| So they called me a cockeyed optimist
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| Immature and incurably green
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| I have heard people rant and rave and bellow
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| That we’re done and we might as well be dead
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| But I’m only a cockeyed optimist
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| And I can’t get it into my head
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| I hear the human race
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| Is fallin' on its face
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| And hasn’t very far to go
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| But ev’ry whippoorwill
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| Is sellin' me a bill
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| And tellin' me it just ain’t so
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| I could say life is just a bowl of Jello
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| And appear more intelligent 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 |