the early morning sun washes our faces
you curse the brightness
i say 'good morning'
and it is
because i woke up next to you

and i ask,
"is it just me
or do you smell honeysuckle?"
and you say,
"no, but i smell your morning breath
and it ******* stinks."

i ask,
"is it just me
or do you hear
a fanfare of trumpets
perhaps a string quartet?"
and you say,
"no, cinderella, but i hear the birds
they're here to wash your hair
and i hear the mice
they're here to dress you."

i ask,
"is it just me
or are you in love right now?"
and you say,
"no, but i am in bed
and for me
that's good enough."

my little optimist heart is confused
because grandma told me
my glass was always half-full
because mama told me
'if you have nothing nice to say
then say nothing at all.'
but you are so vicious
with your poisonous tongue
and your poor disposition
my little optimist heart
doesn't know what to do
because it beats for you

i ask,
"why can't this be
a good morning
for both you and me?"
and you say,
"on the contrary,
it is a good morning:
it is sunday
bombs are not falling from the sky
you live in a good neighborhood
and i am in bed
next to a beautiful woman
so yes, it is a good morning."

i cannot be sure
how much you mean
and how much is meant
to be comedy
as you walk a thin tightrope
between pure comedy and pure honesty
so i take that as my cue
to roll over and go back to sleep

i cannot be sure
but you might have kissed my neck
and said this is all you need
but it all could have been
some honey-soaked dream
how am i to discern
between fantasy and reality
when you have drawn the line so thin
between pure comedy and pure honesty?

the sun rises every day
the neighbor's rooster always wakes us
underneath the covers
pressed against your skin
is safe and warm
outside is cold and uncertain
i know if you heard me say this
you would surely *****
but baby, you have to admit
each other is all we've got