Because it rains when we wish it wouldn’t,
Because men do what do what they often shouldn’t,
Because crops fail and plans go wrong,
Some of us grumble all day long
But somehow, in spite of the care and doubt,
It seems at last that things work out.
Because we lose where we hoped to gain,
Because we suffer a little pain,
Because we must work when we’d like to play
Some of us whimper along life’s way,
But somehow, as days always follow the nights,
Most of us our troubles work out all right.
Because we cannot forever smile,
Because we must trudge in the dust a while,
Because we think that the way is long,
Some of us whimper that life’s all wrong,
But somehow we live and our sky grows bright,
And everything seems to work out all right.
So bend to your trouble and meet your care,
For the clouds must break and the sky grow fair.
Let the rain come down, as it must and will,
But keep on working and hoping still.
For in spite of the grumblers who stand about,
Somehow, just somehow, it seems all things work out.