The times you wish . . . . . . .

I was on a mountain - there was no way down,
why did I come here, should have stayed in town;
the seats started slipping from the deck, everyone sick,
past life flashes before you, a bit like a pandemic.

We were flying over the Bay of Bengal, it was rough,
I'm staying at home in future, I've just had enough,
led to a hotel in Bangladesh , kept us guessing,
because when we arrived - the roof was missing.

There's nothing like a tropical storm, disaster ahead,
I was told to just shut up and get back in bed,
surrounded by locusts, they only eat leaves, nothing matters,
until I looked and saw my pyjamas in tatters.

They're burning fields again, always hazed and blazed,
but whatever life throws at me - I will not be fazed.