It Is What It Is

D         A
I am a monster
             D
Like Quasimodo
                          G
Or Caliban the natural man
                     A           D
Giving wild ripostes to my reflection
G                        A D
One ugly morning
A        G
In a rage
                    A
Father threw an apple
  G                D
Into my carapace
D         A
And like the invisible man
                            D
Directing traffic
               G
I'd be ineffective
A                       D
No matter how enthusiastic
G                        A D
Amid the masses' frenzy
A        G
Participation
                A
In this massive
D         A          D
Separation
Bb                    A
Appearance is everything
D
Nothing is how it seems
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         Bb        A      G
And civilized society
                 D
Is calm civility
G                       D
I'm the phantom of the opera
A                            D
Singing beauty and at ease
 G                     F#m
Or Henry Darger's
                   A
Autobiography

[Verse]
                    D            A         G
And that is curt clues to my essence
D            A       G
Planned obsolescence
Bb                    A
Appearance is everything
D
Nothing is how it seems
         Bb                   A
In a market economy
G              D
It's called marketing
                           D        A       G
And not exactly clawing my way to glory
D            A       G
Nor whimpering in the wind
D               A
But once positively
D
I'm teetering on the brink
                        A
Of an all out breakthrough

[Verse]
         G
But sometimes clear headed
Sometimes a doofus
        G
Sometimes very cordial
And sometimes aloof
            D
I am syrupy optimistic one moment
Then gravely pessimistic the next
         D
Irritable as a hornet sometimes
Then agreeable as it gets
G
I'm not a pagan
I don't worship anything
       G
Not gods that don't exist
Nor the sun which is oblivious
D
I love my ancestors but not ritually
I don't blame them or praise them
D
For anything that they passed along to me
G
I don't need stone altars to help me hedge my bet
D
Against the looming blackness
It is what it is
F#m   G     D
It is   what it is
F#m     Em     D