Sing

I have always loved to sing

Ever since my tender youth.

But good fortune did not bless

My vocal cords, if I must tell the truth.

 

Though my voice might creak and crackle

And my pitch could stand a tweak,

And my throat be filled with gravel,

And my breath wearied and weak,

I will lift it ever upward,

So, let listeners ears beware.

Where my dulcet bellowing should land

I truly do not care.

 

All I really mean to say,

The news I am trying to convey,

If feeling happy is your thing

Just open up your mouth and sing.