Wallowing In Weltschmertz

When buried up to your neck in cow dung
It’s hard to retain your weltanschauung.
Harder still it is to avoid
The loss of everyday sang froid

When confronting a world so traumatized.
But letting yourself be schwarmerei-zed
Only smears your soul with blight
And ruins your gemutlichkeit.

So make tomorrow merriere
By getting off your derriere
To join the dance, a true believre
In the art of joie de vivre.