MISTER SAD
Well, my Bestie is hurtin’.
I want to do much more, but
I’m like a headless chicken
flopping on the floor.
To elevate her mood,
I’ll show her magic tricks.
I’ll even try to sing to her
and sound like Stevie Nicks .
I know that she’s got laughter,
I love to tease it out.
I think I love to shock her
with what I talk about.
Sadness is a person.
A smelly filthy lout.
He walks right in,
he sits right down and
he doesn’t even knock.
That dirty low down snake,
he knows just what to say.
He feeds upon your hurts and cries
and tries to have his way.
He puts worries in your dreams.
He tries to tear you down.
He loves to be real mean.
He loves it when you frown.
He visits till he stinks
with a nasty fishy smell.
You’ll break your back to toss him out
and send him back to hell
He thinks that he can scare you.
He delights to make you cry.
May loving friends with true concern
send blues and him bye-bye.
He said some things, some hurtful things,
that hit you close to home.
He wants to freeze you up,
but there’s something he don’t know.
He makes you wake up crying
but he doesn’t know his place.
He’s got it wrong cause you are strong
and sun shines on your face.
If you need a little help, your
friends all have your back.
So you would think that Mister Sad
might cut a little slack.
So kick his ass real good and send
him running out the door.
When he sees how tough you are,
he will come here -no more.
He’ll be so disappointed,
because he really came quite far.
No one would be upset,
if he were run over by a car.
