On The Plane

They are on the plane now to a far away land,
My son and his bride to be, will return hand in hand,
They are to be married overseas,
In the land of milk and honey and olive trees,
It is to be a happy occasion for all to see,
My third born son and his wife to be,
My first time with what used to be my wife,
So long ago it seems another time another life,
I just feel sorry for my son, to be on such a spot,
I am sure he did not dream of such a plot,
I just hope his life will be smooth sailing,
They say our young ones are smarter and less failing,
Whatever the case may be oh son of mine,
Best of luck to you, So far you have done just fine.

Bed Traveler

I remember when you were born,
Our first, you kept us up till morn,
Your mother would be sliding your bed,
Side to side, so that you may rest your head,
And maybe sleep for a few hours and let us sleep too,
But that wasn’t really you,
You wanted attention all day and night,
Regardless of our sleepless plight,
We even got a full size carpet wall to wall,
To absorb the dragging noise of the bed on the floor,
Thus night after night you kept us up moving your cot,
That bed traveled a million miles on the same spot,
That carpet was worn down paper thin,
That is how things were to begin,
Look at you now 35 years later,
A successful, creative trendsetter

Mia Culpa

I started singing in the shower again,
This causes the neighbours great deal of pain,
Yet I insist on singing the occasional opera,
All I can say is “Mia Culpa”.
I stick to the bass parts of the Italian collection,
But needless to say with my own interpretation,
This may explain the look of desperation,
And why my listeners favour castration,
As a castrato, I am sure as you probably are,
I would have had a greater repertoire,
So here I go on singing again, “La Boheme” and “Aida”,
Because this is all that is left, Esta la Vida

Highway Parkway

The 401 is a parking lot,
It’s supposed to be a highway but it’s not,
Everyday going, coming, west, or east,
Traffic expands like dough on yeast,
Just sitting in the car for hours,
In the heat nothing smells like flowers,
Our tax dollars at work,
Makes you go berserk,
On the other end the 400 too,
A combination of parking lot with a zoo,
No big difference really, only south – north,
Not really moving back and forth

Rainy Day in The GTA

This weekend is a write-off,
You can forget about your golf,
The sky is greyish, rain pouring,
You are better off staying in bed snoring,
Even the subway was flooded Friday,
Walking through town was very untidy,
With the splashing all over the sidewalks,
You ended up with wet socks,
Hey, we signed up for a nice dry summer,
Now we are in dire need of a plumber.