Vic Chesnutt - It is what it is

^DI am a mon^Aster Like Quasimod^Do Or Caliban the natural man^G Giving wild ripostes ^Ato my reflec^Dtion ^GOne ugly morning ^{A D A}In a rage^G Father threw an appl^Ae In^Gto my carapace ^{D D}And like t^Ahe invisible man Directing traffic ^D I'd be ineffect^Give ^ANo matter how enthusiast^Dic ^GAmid the masses' frenzy ^{A D A}Participa^Gtion In this massive ^{A D}Separation^{A D Bb}Appearance is everythi^Ang ^DNothing is how it seems And civil^Bbized socie^Aty ^G Is calm civility ^{D G}I'm the phantom of the o^Dpera ^ASinging beauty and at ease ^D O^Gr Henry Darger's ^F#m Autobiography ^A

And that is curt clu^Des to my esse^Ance ^{G D}Planned obsol^Aescence ^{G Bb}Appearance is everythi^Ang ^DNothing is how it seems In a mark^Bbet economy ^{A G}It's called mar^Dketing And not exactly clawing my ^Dway to gl^Aory ^{G D}Nor whimperin^Ag in the^G wind ^DBut once positiv^Aely ^DI'm teetering on the brink Of an all out breakthrou^Agh

But somet^Gimes clear headed Sometimes a doofus Sometime^Gs very cordial And sometimes aloof I am syrupy ^Doptimistic one moment Then gravely pessimistic the next Irritable^D as a hornet sometimes Then agreeable as it gets ^GI'm not a pagan I don't worship anything Not god^Gs that don't exist Nor the sun which is oblivious ^DI love my ancestors but not ritually I don't blame them or praise them ^DFor anything that they passed along to me ^GI don't need stone altars to help me hedge my bet ^DAgainst the looming blackness It is what it is ^F#mIt is ^G what^D it is F#m Em D