9 September 2012
Sheets of rain in the riverbed, Pull 'em up over, over my head.
Ribbons of water swirling brown Wrapping the present and pulling it down.
Down to the delta and out to sea, Blue as guitar riffs crying in E.
Cry like a mother mourning her son, Tears of the Earth have barely begun.
Washing away The ashen gray The grim patois of Another day
We were born to a gentler time Before we were dipped in industrial slime,
When morning broke with a sky clear blue Over blankets of green dripped in dew.
Now the rain falls sour and foul, Carving gullies through which the wind howls.
Sheets of rain in the riverbed, Pull 'em up over, over my head.
Washing away The ashen gray, The grim patois of Another day.
Gray Rain • Opuss № I