To the misanthropic misbegotten merchants of gloom Who look into their crystal balls and prophesied our doom: "Let the death knell chime, its the end of time" Let the cynics put their blinkers on and toast our decline. Don't become demoralized by scurrilous complaint, Its a sure sign that the old world is terminally quaint. And tomorrow's gonna be a better day, No matter what the siren voices say Tomorrow's gonna be a better day, We're going to make it that way. To the pessimistic populists who harbor no doubt, That everything we make our way – "to hell in a hand cart". To the snarky set, who's sniping to get, Anyone who puts their head above the parapet. Don't become disheartened baby, don't be fooled, Take it from someone who knows the glass is half full. And tomorrow's gonna be a better day, No matter what the siren voices say. Tomorrow's gonna be a better day, E're gonna make it that way.