An old bearded oak of a man in the street yells,
"A storm is coming soon".
The weather man says it will never rain again.
By their own perspective philosophies one of them's just a body.
Reading teleprompts in two-piece suits,
One of them is too strange and splendid for any to comprehend.I feel somethin's coming for me.
Is this death or glory that hangs like lightning in the air?
It's been years of barren skies,
But I see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glareOut there at the edge of town,
Where the wind whips up, whispering my name.
I walk the streets of this withered and wicked land.
My shadow darkens the door of a place I ain't been before,
But I shamble off in shame.
Throwing rocks at the rooks with these brittle and broken hands.
I feel somethin's coming for me.
Is this death or glory that hangs like lightning in the air?
It's been years of barren skies,
But I see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glareI swear I feel the rain in my bones,
And I imagine thunder shattering stones, playing crack the sky.
I was scared I might be lost in the floor but now,
I see more than that I'm just longing for love and this land's so dry.In the dark of the night I woke with a start,
And I stared across the room,
But all I saw was this dream burned across my brain.
From here to the ocean there was a field of roses,
I watched them burst and bloom.
I saw them wither and fade but revive,
When they felt the rain start to fall.
I feel somethin's coming for me.
Is this death or glory that hangs like lightning in the air?
It's been years of barren skies,
But I see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glare.
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