Happy Without a Roof

For years, I’ve been lost in the misunderstood void of joyous thoughts, lyrically misrepresented. Finally, a song comes along that defines my feeling of happiness in a meaningful way. I don’t hesitate to declare my euphoric emotions. I am not ashamed I feel, most certainly, like a room without a roof.

Time after time, song writers have attempted to shackle my smile by tying it to shadows of its true nature. I firmly declare I am happy, but I do not feel like clapping my hands. No! My joy is more robust, more profound. Some may clap when they’re happy, but it is not enough for me. I relegate such behavior to turning on and off the light switch, not expressing my joyous essence.

While I certainly appreciate the sentiment not to worry, it is but a sliver of my happy pie. I shall not worry, but it was always just the tip of the iceberg. Don’t worry, be happy. Yes, but I feel like a room without a roof. For heaven’s sake, someone had to catch that sentiment. I cannot be the only one going through life roofless, I thought. Now I realize I am not alone. Vindicated? Of course, but there is so much more. I am now musically connected to my happy brothers and sisters in a way I’ve never felt. We are together in one big happy room, without a roof.