It's hard to be a turnip, When you'd want to be a rose; It's hard to dress in homespun, When you'd love to wear fine clothes. It's hard to be a pauper And watch the passing show, When you'd rather be a millionaire And pass around the dough. It's hard to have opinions And air them just for fun, When you'd rather be a Pollyanna And agree with everyone. It's hard to be an honest man And on your honor dote, When you'd rather be a politican And gather in the vote. It's hard to be a diplomat And watch the faker do his stuff, When you'd rather be a thoroughbred And call his measly bluff. It's hard to be a dumbbell And take life's slights and jeers, When you'd rather be a wise man And dwell with kings and seers. It's hard to be a poet And paint life's joys and woes, When you'd rather be prosaic And think in common prose. |