After the rain came,
after the rain came,
and you were washed away down the street,
I sat in the café,
and I had two lumps of sugar with my coffee,
and I sat contemplating,
contemplating the fragility of you,
and I wondered if you would ever change,
I wondered if you would ever change,
and I thought,
I thought of you in the rain,
in the rain walking away,
and you,
you always seem to be living in a storm,
living in a storm with rain clouds above your head,
and you seem always to be that way;
and whatever you seem to do,
you always seem to end up in a storm no matter what,
and I wish that you would live in the sun someday,
I wish that you would live in the sun someday and be happy,
for life is much better that way,
but you seem to have this knack about you,
and from the sun you seem to shy away,
and it is a shame,
a shame for it really does no good for your brain,
but you seem to throw your chances to the wind subconsciously,
and you do not seem to wish to be happy,
and it is a terrible shame,
a terrible shame and I picture you,
over and over again on an endless loop,
walking away in the rain,
walking away in the rain with an unhappy face,
battling the elements of your life,
and gritting your teeth and barely ever complaining,
barely ever complaining.
Oh, the pain,
oh, the pain.
Walking away in the rain,
walking away from happiness,
waking away in the rain,
walking away in the rain never to be the same,
never to be the same.
