There was a lady, her name was Nancy
She liked to dress just a little bit fancy
A miserable life she liked to live
All that came out of her mouth was negative
One day as she walked down the street
An old doomsday prophet she would meet
All he spoke about was doom and gloom
You could find more life in a graveyard tomb
Nancy didn't mind that the prophet wasn't happy
For she lived her life being upset and snappy
Joy was something both of them lacked
Like the saying goes "Like spirits attract"
The prophet leaned a little legalistic
While Nancy always chose to be pessimistic
In that negativity they would both flounder
They seemed to attract every Debbie Downer
The doomsday prophet spoke of the end of the world
His message was a magnet to this negative girl
Their cup was half empty, never half full
They seemed to enjoy dwelling in their depressing hole
Every year the prophet would prophesy in January
Of apocalyptic things coming that are scary
He would say we are just a month or two away
And then years would go by and it would never happen today
Both lived their lives as a dirge and a lament
Mainly because both of them were discontent
Neither of them did well at encouraging anybody
They confirmed the old saying, "misery loves company"
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