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Clouds form and clouds dissolve
And the rain falling now will turn to sun
In a week or a year or two.
All I can do is pray for you
And pray for me and pray that these clouds go away.
A white moment of pure peace is all I am waiting for.
To lie once more with my quiet queen in my arms
And remember a time when all these troubles
Were just distant dots on the horizon.
But now like so many the daily grind has got me beat.
Struggling on from month to month
With ever increasing bills to pay,
I am beginning to lose my way.
The world of work is all about juice.
They squeeze every drop out of you
And when you’re dry they throw you on the fire.
I lived for a long time with my head in the clouds
And I noticed nothing small or shallow in my heart.
Now I am becoming one of the Hollow men
Flitting from moment to moment
Like a bee among the flowers.
I had so much sucked out of me
I need to fill up my emotions once more.
Clouds form clouds dissolve
And the rain falling now will turn to sun
In a week or a year or two.
A white moment of pure peace
And a quiet queen in my arms.
One day all this pain will be
Like a shell washed away in the waves.
WELCOME IN.
HERE YOU GO TAKE A GOOD LOOK AROUND JOE'S CAFE.DON'T GO EATING TOO MUCH FATTY FOOD THOUGH!
If only I could find the key
To unlock all this pain inside my head
And let it fly to somewhere else instead
It’s like a trapped bird wanting to fly to sunny skies
When all is grey and coated with lies.
This daily grind has got me ground
Into little pieces of shrapnel.
I feel like a bomb that exploded in World War Two
And no longer has a useful thing to do.
If only I could say for sure
That one and three make four.
But the human mind can’t rely on logic,
It can’t rely on reason , religion or righteousness
All our best laid plans come unstuck
When Life’s hammer falls had and heavy!
Human hearts are forever bleeding and beating and breaking
Then bouncing back up like silly children
Thinking they’ve got something to find.
If only I could find the answers
To all these questions inside my mind
If only I could find the key.
ADVICE FROM THE RAIN-MAKER.
I spoke to the rain-maker and asked him why he was making rain.
It’s just a job he said, someone’s got to do it.
I would rather send sunshine into people’s lives
But I can only send them rain.
That’s the way it goes.
Each man has got his job to do
And he has got to do it well.
If it’s your job to make match-sticks
Make sure you make them better than anyone else.
But surely we can change and learn to do other things as well I asked.
We can’t be meant to do just one thing for all our born days.
Yes, but the point is, there are some things you are gifted to do
And others you aren’t.
The important thing is discovering the job you are meant to do.
And doing it to the best of your ability.
Sounds a bit wishy-washy t me. I argued.
But the rain-maker thrust his trident angrily into a rain cloud
And told me to go and find what I was meant to do.
The rain was falling like angry words
Making everybody run for shelter.
I gave my umbrella to somebody’s daughter
And waited in a doorway for the storm to pass.
The rain-maker was surely laughing as my wet clothes dripped
And I felt a cold coming on.
I heard a clicking noise across the street
It was someone taking a photograph.
That’s what I could do I thought
That would be a good job.
Taking photographs of each and every situation
But photographs of moods and moments.
Photographs of memories and music.
Photographs of every emotion from love to hate
From energy to apathy.
I wrote a letter to the rain-maker
And thanked him for his advice.
