To be sung to the tune of “Sound of Music” (picked up at the “hills are alive” part).
Sure, you say, it will come once again to town
We can see it next year
But the problem is that fate has let me down
Can’t be cavalier
It’s clear to me now
That the show was for Baba, and how
This child-rearing stuff
Ain’t a bed of roses
There’s so much to learn
So much goes astray
Tibetans might say
I should try sand painting
But I’m booked today.
[“Show? What show?” you say? Backstory here.]