The Soft, Cool Grass

Depressed about the market? Up the creek
With bad investments? Honking up stale stuff,
Attempting to expel the crap with snuff
That someone left behind? Is it too weak
To do the job? When you begin to speak
Are people looking like they've had enough
And bailing? Is the skin on your palms rough
And unappealing? Does the ceiling leak?

I know you hoped some answers would appear
Like magic, but the magic is all gone
And nothing's left but heartaches from now on,
Unappetizing and intensely drear,
And if you've been depressed, and of ill cheer,
Lie down and mope, there, on your neighbour's lawn.