Mom always said not to frown
If I'd had something to be happy about, my smile wouldn't of been upside down

Now on my brow
Is a permanent scowl
Chiseled in stone
From when I've grown cold

People complain about crows feet
But every person like that I meet
I can't help but see smiling eyes
A happy face has always been their guise

Maybe their an optimist always seeing the glass half full
Boy wouldn't that be a useful tool

But it's hard not to be a pessimist when your glass is always empty
Not even for my thoughts a penny

Even when there is some hope and I think my cup is getting full
The powers that be shows me to be quiet a fool

They knock my cup over to watch me run
Like a little bug under their gun

Is it to much to ask for a little fun
To see a little more than the midnight sun
So on my face a smile can bleed
Not just temporary happiness that misleads