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OK, I’m just gonna come out and say it: Some of you need to relax.

Enjoy life. Be grateful. Don’t worry, be happy. Keep on truckin’. Other cryptically inspirational song lyrics.

Look, I’m all about constant improvement and top-level performance (not in myself, but others). And you should speak out about it. That’s part of what makes America great and it doesn’t lessen your fan loyalty.

I love a good dose of skepticism and wariness, especially when delivered with a witty quip or sarcastic barb. Ask my wife, she’ll tell you I don’t trust people. Or like people.

And I could write a list longer than a Ute rap sheet of things BYU could do to improve itself.

But some BYU fans just cannot stop themselves from constantly and incessantly bemoaning everything about the school and its programs. For many it’s complaining about conference membership (or lack thereof) with a sky-is-falling attitude.

"Football is fifth" is unacceptable to some, who are now already questioning Taysom Hill’s speed and throwing accuracy.

Others constantly bemoan a lack of BCS appearances and Final Fours, calling for the jobs of Bronco Mendenhall, Dave Rose and Tom Holmoe.

Again, it’s OK to grumble about an issue or two. But don’t be such Debbie Downers, folks. Everything could be better. But everything could be a lot worse. Don’t make me invoke the name of Gary Crowton to make a point.

So to accommodate the seemingly growing pool of Peter Pessimists out there on the message-boards and Twitter, I took the liberty of rewriting the precious Cougar Fight Song for you.

Apparently I have no shame. But at least I’m optimistic. Mostly.

Rise all fickle Cougars
Raise your grievance to Hol-Moe
Start a fight, wrong or right
Speak up, Bro

Riley’s gone it’s true
But Taysom might suck too
As we tweet our anger peaks
Come on bitchers it’s up to you

Oh rise and doubt
We want Bronco out
He won’t put football fo-urth

Rise and pout
Nat’l championship drought
Has us all up in an up-roar

On we’ll go
With Cougarboard woe
With unflinching pessimism

As we point out faults
In every wound, we will pour salt

We’ll take our Xanax well before noon
And despair over BYU

Wah, wah, wah, wah, wah
Wah, wah, wah, wah, wah
Aaaarrrgggghhh, Cougars!