Should we be optimistic?
Can we bounce back from the bends?
We ought to hire a mystic
To find out what fate intends.
Our wretched form continues,
We just go from bad to worse.
It’s stretching all our sinews
And it’s making grown men curse.
The atmosphere is fearful,
All our hopes have been dismissed,
And the reasons to be cheerful?
At this time, they don’t exist.