With doubt and dismay you are smitten
You think there’s no chance for you, son?
Why, the best books haven’t been written,
The best race hasn’t been run,
The best score hasn’t been made yet,
The best song hasn’t been sung yet,
The best tune hasn’t been played yet;
Cheer up, for the world is young!
No chance? Why, the world is just eager
For something that you ought to create;
Its store of true wealth is still meager,
Its needs are incessant and great;
It yearns for more power and beauty,
More laughter, more love and romance,
More loyalty, labor and duty.
No chance—why there’s nothing but chance!