Perhaps a little musical interlude is in order...

Is you 'appy? You gotta be 'appy.
You got to be one hundred percent... I suppose!
Is you 'appy? You gotta be 'appy.
You got to be one hundred percent... I sup-pose!

What are ya lookin' peevish for?
Pick your jaw up off the floor.
Was you smacked with a two by four?
Well, you're not broke out in sores.
You ain't got no disease.
Don't go lookin' for sympathy,
'Cause I knows if you was me,
You'd be 'appy.

And I knows how 'ard it's got,
And yer guts is gone to rot,
And yer life is all upsot,
And you're flashin' cold and hot.
Suck back your nasal drip,
Stiffen up your lower lip;
You're not going to be missed,
So 'tis just as well to be 'appy.

Is you 'appy? You gotta be 'appy.
You got to be one hundred percent... I suppose!
Is you 'appy? You gotta be 'appy.
You got to be one hundred percent... I sup-pose!

I know'd a feller once,
He was 'ere for several months;
He got along with our bunch,
We know'd he was out to lunch.
No one liked him real good,
Well, his mudder never could;
But, while he was stunned for good...
He was 'appy.

And then there's ugly Gord,
Last year he breaks out in warts;
Looks like the livin' corpse,
Girls rather kiss his arse.
Stinks like the rotten fish,
Tastes like the maggotty flesh;
We tolerates him I guess,
'Cause 'tis just as well to be 'appy.

Is you 'appy? You gotta be 'appy.
You got to be one hundred percent... I suppose!
Is you 'appy? You gotta be 'appy.
You got to be one hundred percent... I sup-pose!

One certain feller here,
With nuttin' between his ears;
One night he got on the beer,
Stripped off till he was bare.
Went paradin' around the town,
Till the cops tracked him down;
He's in the mental now...
But he's 'appy.

Listen here... Take my advice,
Make sure you got no lice;
Get yerself all smellin' nice,
Try to straighten out yer eyes.
Haul yer boots up over yer pants,
Take yer partner out to dance;
'Cause now you got the chance,
And 'tis just as well to be 'appy.

Is you 'appy? You gotta be 'appy.
You got to be one hundred percent... I suppose!
Is you 'appy? You gotta be 'appy.
You got to be one hundred percent... I sup-pose!

How's ya boots??... Mind now!... Copesetic!

--Kevin Blackmore of Buddy Wasisname And The Other Fellers (Salt Beef Junkie, 1995; Greatest Misses, 1999; I'm Looney, 2002)