Cool are the drops, that showered the skin.
The drops, a gift from heaven.
Cool are the drops that sheltered this hymn.
The hidden hymn of the broken.
Never to be heard, never to be seen.
Warm are the tears, that humbled the heart.
The tears, of being apart.
Warm are the tears coming from the heart.
That inspires the dying art.
Always fleeting, always afar.
Plenty are the memories, within the soul.
The soul, the longing soul.
Many are the dreams, residing the fool.
Who owns the gaping hole, within a lonely core.
Cold is the wind, together with the rain.
The wind that blew away the dreams.
Cold is the rain, together with the wind.
The rain, this rain, might resolve the pain.
The wind and rain, melting my chains.
I felt the rain when she left,
the drops, the wind and the gaping hole.
I felt the rain when she left,
for I am the soul of the longing fool.
I felt the pain, and I felt the rain.
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