The better, the greater, the fitter,
The brighter, the greener side of every note,
Enclosed in wishes and floating dandelions
On footsteps of temples and in crosses of faith,
In bowed prayers and joining palms,
Forever a wish of a finer fate forth,
Oblivious to the share of somber bads
In the realization of the subtles of bliss
For it is ordeal that ordains the open gusto
And the dark isn't evil as evils think.
It is honest and it speaks,
It speaks and it reeks
That not each day shall be yellow and glee.
It reeks of truth, truth that is
Sour to hear and thus oft ignored
But ignorance is never so fit to face
The tread of trembling turmoil
The thread of threat and trouble
The tasking ticks of wishful tomorrowland.
For reflect, if it wasn't for bad
How would you pick the good among the crude?
If the blue and black and brown
Weren't pinned despairs of dark,
Would the yellow be always sunshine?
If pain was a demon ever unseen
Would the fairies of frolic ever bless of bliss?
If tears of terribleness never fell,
Would the tears of rejoice matter so?
And so if the grass never turned to yellow
Would the greener side still be so green?
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