its always been a terrible thing, that on rainy days...
there could not be one to keep...
the sun only shined twice at me and left me with beautiful dreams...
after all the cigarettes and all the alcohol lost on waking up...
those dreams could seem smarter than having to take whats given...
from decades bleeding into the mornings wishes...
rainy days always have some kind of terrible hope...
for the idiot who always keep his dreams within city limits...
like the edge of life in a town in nowhere...
but only somewhere he didn't fit...
rainy days always say something terrible of not burning in the sun...
and if one day that sun came back like before...
it would seem more beautiful than all the dreams before...
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