Depressed

We all have our moods.

Some are dark, some are sunny.

I’m not too proud of this one.

But it’s real … and it’s funny.

(They say that) aliens are livin’ subterraneously

Deep in the heart of the West.

(Some folks get) lathered and hopped-up about it, but not me.

Who would wanna get that depressed?

(They say that) 14 secret people rule the world on the sly

And the President heeds their least request.

(Some folks would) blow the whistle, screamin’ “bloody murder”. Not I.

Who would wanna get that depressed?

Rampant paranoia makes your thoughts thick.

And, real quick, you’re heart-sick.

All of these are subjects on which I would rather not dwell.

Do tell.

(They say that) obvious conspiracies are happenin’ every day

And I’m too stupid to have guessed.

(The world is) doomed and life is over as we know it but, hey,

Who would wanna get that depressed?

Standin’ in the supermarket check-out line.

Nice day. Feelin’ fine.

Then I see those tabloids tryin’ to scare me half to death.

Catch my breath.

(By now I’ve) heard the whole calamitous catalog.

Cassandras marchin’ six abreast.

(And I’ve) googled through a gaggle of bleak and bleary blogs.

I’ve gotta give it a rest.

I just don’t wanna get that depressed.