Any Old Kind Of Day

I whistled round today, and I skipped up a footloose jig,
To the Hurdy-Gurdy music of the street,
I looked up past those rooftops and I saw a cloudless sky,
But I keep on asking why my life is passing by,
And I’m left up high and dry,
But it ain’t no good to cry, so I shrug my useless sigh,
And I trust the things that other days will bring

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