This life's a rather funny thing — we make an awful mess Of it,
We make more breaks and more mistakes the more we go along.
Well, life's a riddle, so it is, we make a rotten guess of it.
And try to do the thing that's right — and find that it is wrong.
This life's a rather funny thing — but folks, I find, are funnier.
And mighty few, like me and you, are really what they seem.
A’m sure if folks were on the square that living would be sunnier —
We really might be happier, and yet we'd rather scheme.
Some fellow along the street with visage sanctimonious.
But all the same some little game he's following, no doubt;
No matter how his face may look, his game may be felonious.
And you would be astonished if you turned him inside out .
And all the while some other man, unknown in the community
For virtues high, may be the guy deserving of our praise,
May be the fellow doing right at every opportunity.
But all he ever gets is knocks in fortv-seven ways.
This life's a rather funny thing — we make a fearful stab at it;
We've never guessed just what is best, and what to leave alone.
The imitation comes along, we make a frantic grab at it,
And scorn the thing that's genuine, some other thing to own.
And so thru life we go our way, thru life we go a-blundering.
And never yet the thing we get to help to make us smile.
And then when we are done with it, we go to slumber wondering
If life (forgetting who's to blame) was really worth the while.