There is a family nobody likes to meet
They live, it is said, on complaining street,
In the city of Never-Are-Satisfied
The river of discontent beside.
They growl at that and they growl at this
Whatever comes, there is something amiss,
And whatever their station, be high or humble
They are always known by the name of grumble.
The weather is always too hot or cold
Summer and Winter alike they scold,
Nothing does right with the folks you meet
Down on the gloomy complaining street.
They growl at the rain and they growl and the sun
In fact, their growling is never done,
And if everything pleased them there isn't a doubt
They'd growl that they'd nothing to complain about.
The worst thing is that if anyone stays
Among them too long, he will learn their ways,
And before he dreams of the terrible jumble
He's adopted into the family of grumble.
And so it were wisest to keep our feet
From wandering into complaining street,
And then, be our station high or humble
We'll never belong to the family of grumble.