Why does it have to rain this way?
The smell of the wet ground
dampens my heart too much
to not let away my soul
to not let it away
to get wet this way.
After sleepless nights
the mornings come so soon
the darkness of the clouds grips my heart
that whines in your memory
and the sun behind the clouds's in a hurry
as it only gets darker by noon.
AND then it pours,
the waves in my heart suddenly know no shores.
As the feeble boat of self denial
capsizes under its power
my soul's already dancing
with your memories in the shower.
