It never rains in Georgia
Though my cloudy head is gray
And even in November suns
It thunders in the fray
Of my peachy state of mind
And the beaches I convey
Behind hurricane frustrations
As my calm trees start to sway
In the coastal winds of longing
For my tempests kept at bay
Such deluges would be cleansing
A most vehement display
Of my angriest storm surges
That could blow this world away
But it never rains in Georgia
And I'm keeping it that way
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 12:59 AM UTC
It never rains in Georgia
Though my cloudy head is gray
And even in November suns
It thunders in the fray
Of my peachy state of mind
And the beaches I convey
Behind hurricane frustrations
As my calm trees start to sway
In the coastal winds of longing
For my tempests kept at bay
Such deluges would be cleansing
A most vehement display
Of my angriest storm surges
That could blow this world away
But it never rains in Georgia
And I'm keeping it that way
The thin line between indignation and sorrow
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