It was one of those bad weather days
You know the stormy, flying monkey type
Where you end up chasing garbage cans
And watching the world wash down the pipe

The trees were whipping everywhere
Dropping branches, clipping wires
They were also downing hydro poles
Cutting power, starting fires

The rain ripped like small razors
The hail sandblasted exposed skin
The sewers swallowed slowly
They could not let the rain come in

My windows shook like aspic
Distorting all I saw outside
My house was all in darkness
Time to hunker for the ride

The clouds moved like a time delay
Three days compressed all into one
They circled and came back again
They blocked out all hope of sun

I thought of Margaret Hamilton
Flying above the world of Oz
It was just a random thought I had
Just an image, just because

My yard was now a shallow lake
The ground could not absorb the rain
It would break for a few minutes
Gather up and start again

Each storm it seems is harsher
Than the last one to come through
I have even thought that I should
Gather animals in pairs of two

At the end of every rain storm
I was taught to look and find
A rainbow in the distance
A light diffraction in my mind

I went to my front window
Looked and saw one in the sky
At the end there'd be a leprachaun
with gold a mile high

I watched the news that evening
saw the damage that was made
And at the end of my storms rainbow
They showed a PRIDE parade.

I'm wondering how passionate
and quite truly immaculate
the rhythm has to be,
for me to see
how every single note
brings a rattle to my bones,
and shakes the fringes of my soul
until I fin'ly lose control,
but then I know,
and every second as it grows,
I start to show
the very essence of the mold,
until my heart decides to blow,
and then I'm left
with all the pieces
of a smiling
abode;
the sonic waves that were composed;
the very rhythm and it's home.

I find as I get older
I have to censor what I say
I can't say that a happy man
Seems very, very, gay

I never got the memo
When certain words were made taboo
I never got that message
I' missed that one , did you?

My Nan would send my brother
To the shops to get her ****
I know we aren't allowed to say this
I've been told by P.C nags

I remember the old story
Of Black Peter and St. Nick
Now you can't say either one
or you'd be branded quite the *****

There, I used another one
*****, somehow made the list
Has anyone seen the memo
It's the one note that I missed

You must call someone Richard
You cannot call him ****
**** political correctness
Just brought me back to *****

If you sit and watch the telly
you can't put your feet up on a ****
that gets us back to gay again
The PC folks would hit the roof

Don't start me on Brazil nuts
Remember what we all called those ?
If I put that down in writing
I'd be PC'd in the nose

Men and Women are all persons
This PC stuff just makes me sick
But, just look at them both naked
There, I've worked back round to *****

It takes the fun out of saying swear words
You have to censor all the time
There might be a PC zealot
waiting for a language crime

So, in closing let me tell you
And I will do it with some class
They can take their PC memo
And shove it up their....buttocks (I think is the term used nowadays)!

Someone once said to me,
Pain isn't always palpable
And now, I finally see,
Sometimes, you have to dig deep,

Like on the bitter nights,
When I can't sleep,
All the haunting thoughts are keeping me awake,
And I can't seem to get comfortable,
Between the sheets,
They seem to suffocate me,

On those nights,
I'll sit and dig out my inner psyche,
Looking for,
The thing that pains me,
That night,

And when I find it,
I'll **** the *****,
With positive thinking,
So I can finally get to sleep,
For once.

Where's Waldo?
I'm Waldo.
Hidden in the crowd
Silenced by the sound
I look like all the others
I speak like all the others
But even when I scream so loud
I can't be found

Where's Waldo?
I'm Waldo.
Do you see me now?
Do you hear me somehow?
I look like all the others
I speak like all the others
But even when I stand proud
I can't be found

Where's Waldo?
I'm Waldo.
Can you see my tears?
Can you hear my fears?
I look like all the others
I speak like all the others
But even when they look around
I can't be found

Where's Waldo?
I'm Waldo.
Hidden by the night.
Silenced by my fright.
I look like all the others
I speak like all the others
But even in the light
I won't be found