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grouch fence grouch


by Gary Jacobson

There is a green hill far away.
Life is better there,
So people say.
The skys are always fair,
Never cloudy,
Never gray.
People breathe good clean air.
Life is happy and gay.
There children are always smarter
People are simply cleaner
There is no crime
Polite all the time.
Where the green grass grows greener.
The weather's perfectly sublime.
The pretty people stay pretty much leaner,
And they don't allow sweat.
The good life's all play,
So people live happier there I bet,
Life one big party every day.

Can you tell me perchance,
Why is the grass always greener
On the other side of the fence?
Is life there always sweeter?
People are always saying it,
When things don't go exactly right,
So it must be true a bit.
People see greener pastures with psychic sight.
It's a crying shame life where you are,
Isn't always greener.
You could surely go far,
If love and romance weren't always leaner.
If you just weren't where you are,
On the wrong side of the fence...

But you don't stand a chance,
With true love or money,
Always losing your honey,
To the guy on the other side of the fence.
Who always has it better.
The guy on that side of the fence,
Always is living on an easy street finer,
Finer than where you are,
Always living subpar...
On the other side of the fence
There's always true and abiding romance.
Girls and wives are always prettier,
Men and husbands handsomer,
Children athletically and intellectually superior,
Neighbors friendlier,
Homes and yards nicer,
Making money easier,
Jobs better.
The world simply rosier...
And all because the grass is greener,
Than on your poor side of the fence.

While those on the "rightside" of the fence
Live in the pink,
Wrong siders clean the drain in the sink.
Hence I say in abject pain
And deepest sorrow,
Those poor souls on the wrongside of the fence,
Will never see a brighter tomorrow.
Some unlucky shmucks are always caught,
Wrongside of that capricious fence,
Always and forever in the wrong spot.
But let me tell you this,
Wrongsiders must be kind of dense,
Wherever they go always to wind up,
Wrong side of the cotton pickin' fence.

Life just hasn't given wrongsiders a chance,
On that other side where life's not greener,
Where things look a little leaner...
A whole lot meaner.
Must be some kind of Karmic penance,
In my heart I feel a kind of reverence,
For unfortunates always stuck in a rut,
Always on the wrong side of that evil fence...

It must give special pain
To see those on the other side naturally attain,
Always wearing shining good luck enhanced
Just because... On the "right" side they're fenced.
Right siders are surely blessed
With the sweet things in life
By soft summer breezes carressed.
Wrong siders face bitter toil and strife,
Their whole sorry, deprived life.

Wonder what would happen if by chance
Over that wicked fence
Wrongsiders gaily dance?
Would rainbows sprout in every backyard?
Would fortune and fame fall from the sky?
Would dreary lives suddenly seem not so hard?
Would crab grass die?
Would pimples go away?
Would sweet life seem like apple pie?
Would we get everything for which we pray?
Would only beauty greet our eye?
Would wrongside guys now get the girl
The've been chasing every day?
Would girls get the guy?
What might happen
Without that arbitrary fence?
Would bad luck come to former rightsiders,
Now suddenly wrongside,
Relegated to darkside vengeance?
Would good fortune now fall to wrongsiders
Now "rigthtsiders"
Of that pernicious fence?

No no, don't say it,
How can it be?
how can you even suggest it,
Such a despicable thing to me?
You claim people making the lame excuse
The wrong side of the fence did them in,
Complaining life should be greener
On their side of the fence,
Are simply complainers,
Looking for any excuse in a hand-bag of weiners.
You say people should learn good luck,
Comes to him who earns it.
You'll never have bad luck,
Because on the wrong side of the fence you sit.
Good luck is hard work,
And good deeds clean,
Is what makes a persons lot in life

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