I think we all believe that Morrissey's lyrics have a lot of beauty, texture, diversity of themes, and so on. Anyone who thinks Morrissey is truly monolithic probably wouldn't like him all that much, and certainly wouldn't come here to post messages unless they were trolls (and Lord knows we've had a few of those).
The issue of whether or not he's singing the same old song all the time is not one to dismiss out of hand, though. Dazzak and Danny are absolutely right in their complaints in one crucial respect: for all the wit, humor, pathos, and anger in Morrissey's twenty-three year career, for most of it there was a huge hole in his view of life, a hole in the shape of a fulfilling personal relationship. True, he found countless ways to describe depression, anxiety, illness, and misery. So brilliant is Morrissey that some of the saddest songs are the funniest, and some of the funniest songs the saddest. Many of the most superficially "negative" songs are extremely joyful and affirmative (in many cases thanks to big help from Johnny). The depth and richness of his writing is unmatched in pop music of the last few decades. But never did he really acknowledge any sort of successful relationship, either in his music or in his interviews, until recently.
Morrissey once said something to the effect that he was tired of people pretending that life is either totally sad or totally happy. In reality, it's a mixture. "Life wasn't meant to be a dance record", yes, but neither is it a ceaseless dirge. Morrissey's eariler music reflected that sentiment but at the same time there was a notable absence of simple happiness with other people. He always sang about the lack of a successful relationship, usually singing from the standpoint of one who is either in a fatally flawed relationship ("What Difference Does It Make?", "Reel Around The Fountain"), chasing someone ("Half A Person", "Handsome Devil"), or doomed in some mysterious way ("There Is A Light That Never Goes Out", "Hand In Glove"). There's always a lack of some kind, something or other preventing happiness.
For me, whatever was blocking Morrissey's happiness was redeemed, firstly, by the truth and artistry of his writing, and, secondly, by the idea that Morrissey had the potential to be happy if only the world were different than it was. The second point was crucial to the whole idea of The Smiths. Morrissey's happiness was not an inward-looking pity party, it was a standing indictment of everyone else. Charges of mopery bewilder me-- the man's wrath is not that of a navel gazer. "How Soon Is Now?", for instance, is one of the great expressions of The Smiths' vitality because of an attacking energy that doesn't come from Morrissey's brooding melancholy but rather from the anger with which he sings, "I am human and I need to be loved" (punctuated by Marr's excoriating guitar). Morrissey undoubtedly has more self-loathing than most people, sure, but he also challenges the accepted way most of us live our lives. As much as Morrissey bemoans how difficult life is, he also points to how wonderful life could be.
His recent solo work, beginning with "Quarry" and especially with "Ringleader", redeems all those early songs because that "could be" has become an "is". (Open to qualification, perhaps-- a Clintonian "is"-- but an "is" nonetheless.) I wouldn't for a moment suggest that Morrissey is riotously happy now, or even that he ever could be happy in the way that many people consider "normal". However, for Morrissey to sing about being in love or having sex has now filled the aforementioned hole-- wink wink-- that had existed since the early days of The Smiths. What separated Morrissey from all the doom merchants of the 80s (you know who you are, mascara monsters) is that the possibility of his happiness existed. He sang, "The story is old, I know, BUT IT GOES ON", and to like that song you have to believe that one day the story can end happily (whether it actually does or not). Again, I'm not saying the story has ended happily. It may end just as abjectly and horribly as Morrissey has at times predicted. But merely to know that Morrissey has spent a number of nights in some sort of pleasant relationship, no matter how odd it may look to outsiders, validates all his lamentations about empty beds in "I Know It's Over" and "Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me".
To deny that Morrissey's lyrics were at one time rather one-sided is to miss the glory of "Ringleader" and the personal transformation he's had in the last few years. There was a point years ago where you could reasonably complain that he was stuck in an emotional rut, that he was the stunted, eternal teenager critics often said he was. No longer. Anyone who thinks Morrissey is not substantially different than his younger self may be complaining about another issue entirely. Namely, if his musical accompaniment was as sparkling and alive as it had been in earlier stages of his Smiths and solo career, a lot of the personal evolution he's written about on "Ringleader" would sound different. If "You Have Killed Me", fantastic as it is-- and it is-- had been backed by music as punchy and irresistable as "This Charming Man" or even "Interesting Drug", believe me, it would sound like the very Earth had been knocked clean off its axis. As it is, Morrissey is now fulfilling the promise and potential of his earlier songs, and for that his last two albums, "the comeback" albums, are totally justified.