[Intro]

A badge at nine, a desk at ten,
A process map at half past then,
New folders waiting, clean and white,
New scripture, printed overnight.

The lifts release another floor,
A brass sign gleams beside the door,
Three traffic lamps above it glow,
Welcome to the P-M-O.

[Verse]

Irene Walsh arrives on time,
With forty tabs and numbered lines,
A ruler, notebook, honest dates,
And questions no one celebrates.

She marks the owners, marks the cost,
The days already quietly lost,
She asks what blocks the Phoenix flow—
A silence settles, soft and slow.

[Pre-Chorus]

Name the task and name the lead,
Name the thing the task will need,
Name the risk before it grows,
That is how a project goes.

[Chorus]

Welcome to the P-M-O,
Where every hidden current shows,
Put the promise by the plan,
Put the deadline where it stands.

No secret path, no undertow—
Red means danger, green means go.

[Verse]

The programme leads assemble chairs,
With polished slides and cautious stares,
They praise her framework, praise her tone,
Then ask which columns can be shown.

The Directors send a brief reply:
"Keep detail low and confidence high.
We value facts, but even so,
Make sure the overall picture glows."

[Chorus]

Welcome to the P-M-O,
Where every hidden current shows,
Put the promise by the plan,
Put the deadline where it stands.

Welcome to the P-M-O—
Some currents run too fast to show.

[Instrumental Break]

[Bridge]

Forty-seven links appear,
Taut from legal down to gear—
The organ strikes the five-note phrase,
The last note lands one beat too late.

[Build-up]

She says, "A plan must tell the truth.
A measured risk is not a crime.
A hidden risk just borrows time."

The room performs its careful waves—
A Director murmurs, soft and low:
"She'll learn how status colours go."

[Final Chorus]

Welcome to the P-M-O,
Where every hidden current shows,
Put the promise by the plan,
Put the deadline where it stands.

The numbers gleam, the charts stay clean—
Something still moves beneath the sheen.

[Outro]

The badge reads nine, the clock reads ten,
The milestone moves and moves again,
Three traffic lamps above the door,
Only one is wanted anymore.