Bob’s a worrier

He’s a worrier, Bob, he lives under a cloud

But I’m trying to help him to mellow

And I’d like to deploy my affirmative views

Just to help this unfortunate fellow

“Chill out” I tell Bob, “It’ll all work out fine

This old world will still spin on its axis

Chances are, it won’t happen, there’s no certainty

About anything, bar death and taxes”

But Bob sees the world through a different lens

And worries from morning ‘til night

An inveterate fuss-budget, laden with gloom

Perpetually stressed and uptight

“Lighten up” I tell Bob “There’s no need to get wired

Over things that you cannot control

Just leave it to chance, and sublime happenstance

Will ensure things work out, on the whole”

But old Bob thinks the world’s in a perilous state

“Things can only get worse” he contends

“Armageddon is just ‘round the corner

And we’ll all be struck down, when it ends”

So, I give up the fight, for I know when I’m beat

And as tolerance goes, I’m all out

If I hang around longer, I feel that I might

Give Bob something to worry about