Dour Debbie Downer

Dour Debbie Downer with a daily dose of doom She complains about her father with a sense of gloom He was a bully, he wishes I was dead she said. Her mother was worse; she is glad that she is dead. Dour Debbie Downer with a daily dose of anything not warm. She hopes none of her family gets in touch in spirit form. My sister was awful, I wish I had never let her back into my life. The conversation always comes back to depression and strife. Dour Debbie Downer is right now calling me on the phone. Once again, I ignore it, hoping she will think I am not home.