The characteristic feature of the loser is to bemoan, in general terms, mankind's flaws, biases, contradictions, and irrationality - without exploiting them for fun and profit
Moping melancholy And moon-struck madness.
A melancholy sound is in the air, A deep sigh in the distance, a shrill wail Around my dwelling. 'Tis the Wind of night.
Whining is just unbecoming.
Remember that in all miseries lamenting becomes fools, and action, wise folk.
Lost money is bewailed with deeper sighs Than friends, or kindred, and with louder cries.
That night as I lay in bed, I thought of several things I could have said and mourned the fact that my wit usually bloomed late, peaking when it no longer mattered, during the solitary hours close to midnight.
I'm not really good at writing sad sappy ballads. In terms of the lyrics not matching the vibe of the music, that's kind of the way my career has gone; everyone is a little confused about it all the time.
But probably my favorite music, believe it or not, is sad music.
We whine about things we have little control over; we lament what we believe ought to be changed.
There did he sit shrivelled in his chimney corner, fretting on account of his weak legs, world weary, will weary, and one day he suffocated through his excessive pity.
