There’s a circus tent in my yard
It’s big and wide,
And stands with pride,
A fortress at night

There’s a circus tent in my yard
In every yard on the block
However empty they are in the day
In the dark the clowns flock
Big and tall
Or micro small
They all have the same wardrobe of despair

I want to grab their hand
And lean down man to man
Say that I have joined a circus or two
And know the feeling of solitude
But they will simply honk their horns
Look at me with scorn
Because I do not know the Canadian cold
Is what makes their noses red
I do not know that their faces are frozen,
not white painted on their head

There’s a circus tent in my city
It’s big and wide
But there’s no clowns in sight
Only people to pity
For whom we cannot provide

There’s a clown in my yard
But he does not sit in a tent
Instead he sports a suit and tie
Seemingly never the bad guy
Justin Trudeau repent!