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Gosh, it's beautiful here. Just look at that yellow sun
You know, I don't think we're at the end of the world
Like everyone else thinks. I just can't work myself
Up to getting that low. Do you think I'm crazy, too?
Ha ha ha
They all do over at Fleet Hospital. You know what they call me?
"Knucklehead Nellie." I suppose I am, but I can't help it. (sung)
When the sky is a bright canary yellow
I forget every cloud I've ever seen
So they call me a cockeyed optimist
Immature and incurably green
I have heard people rant and rave and bellow
That we're done and we might as well be dead
But I'm only a cockeyed optimist
And I can't get it into my head
I hear the human race is falling on its face
And hasn't very far to go
But every whip-poor-will is selling me a bill
And telling me it just ain't so
I could say life is just a bowl of Jello
And appear more intelligent and smart
But I'm stuck like a dope with a thing called hope
And I can't get it out of my heart
Not this heart
Wanna know anything else about me?
You say you are a fugitive. What were you running away from?
Gosh, I don't know. It was more like I was running to something
I wanted to see what the world was like, outside Little Rock
I mean. And I wanted to meet different kinds of people and
Find out if I liked 'em any better. And I'm finding out