The clouds hang out together like bored girls
Until they form a shield with greasy curls
The radio mumbles on about the old
As if we are unable to be bold
Do we not have courage as we age
When we have laid our dear ones in their grave?
We edge our way downstairs to make the tea
Sit in bed,imagine we’re at sea
Children play their games and so may we
The bed a boat,the sky as wide as eyes
Where is the navigator, do we drift?
Eclipsed our passage through the soft soft mist
If life’s a Play then we may take our part
To hypnotise the audience and their hearts