I had a dream where I was the background singer at a nightclub, and one of the performers became extremely depressed. She wouldn’t stand up from her spot on stage, and no amount of consolation would rise her from her depression. So, in the spur of the moment, I cued the band and made up this song.

Sing a happy song

Sing a happy song

Life is okay

Things aren’t that great

But what the hell

Let’s get this over with 

Later I asked the person who had been attempting to console her what the matter had been, and she said “It’s her birthday, and she didn’t want to have to assassinate her husband.”

I shouldn’t be allowed to have dreams when sick.