I'm standing under the eave
the rain turning streets into rivers
I'm waiting for my dam-da-di-dey
I see umbrellas,
plastered in their faces,
people scatter hurriedly,
all looking for their dam-da-di-deys
then you, with hair all soaked, you're running
to this old sack of blood
the taste of cold rain
on your lips
and a dam-da-di-dey
hey