Soaked to the bone with top-splashes of news
I cannot create what I need on my plate
I want songs, I want poems, I want so much more
then the bad news I hear on this forked road of hate

Drenched from the fear that has clothed my days
I refuse to adhere to the orders they give
one day I hear truth one day I hear lies
one day we are living one day we might die

Pass me an umbrella the rain has drenched me anew
its pouring in a helter skelter way, and I don't know what to do