My Plan

When I wanted something I couldn't buy, A suit of clothes or a Sunday tie, Or a new straw hat when the sun was high, I used to feel sore about it. I used to go 'round with a face drawn long, And vow that everything here was wrong, And this was the theme of my dismal song, I can't get along without it. When I've been broke, which has oft occurred, I never could utter a cheerful word, I grouched all day, which was most absurd, And kicked up a fuss about it. I thought what I wanted and couldn't get Was reason enough to fume and fret, So I fretted and fumed all day, and yet I managed to do without it. Now whatever I want that I cannot buy, A suit of clothes or a Sunday tie, Or a new straw hat when the sun is high, I don't say a word about it. I've found that my wants needn't interfere With my daily fun on this hemisphere, What I can't afford doesn't spoil my cheer, I just get along without it.