It's strange, you know
The way words let us
Understand things, things
That have no need
To be understood

It's so strange, at times
The way we have to
Tell our little lies
When there's no need
To tell nothing but the truth

It's so strange, this world
With you in it
With you on it
With you underneath

It's so strange, being here
To each temperature, an atmosphere
To each person, being far or near
To each tree that paints a leaf

It's strange, you know
The way your eyes let me
See shapes so clear
When there's no such thing as need
And no such thing as fear

it's raining again, for what i care
the drops softly hitting the wet
glass pane in front of me

in front of me a blurry glare
a first glance, it reminds me
it resembled somehow your
features, the soft shapes i recall
occasional and without effort

but

it's just a reflection of mine
getting repetitive over time
still, i'm too thankful to refuse

but too dubious to make it
come true, uncertain
yet-- somehow--

it's raining again, for what i care