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Storm in the teacup Rising smoke, burnt offering, no fire The one with the touch of gaga,MIDAS Eagle eyed. Thoughts like air all over Worrying lost, lost, worry not Weep not O child Thoughts bound tearing through the circumspect Bathed shadow brushing certitude,faint Paint wild glowing bright One day the cock would grow it's first tooth They would marvel, indeed the world world would marvel Although the certitude of it may be zero, The hero is coming to wipe away their fears I, riding on the shadows Like a golden sinister loving lost Shadows of reality would say her lots Oh! What a change from the norm What a scornful surprise Waking up to change, reality Indeed, what a storm in a teacup I