When it rains, it’s just not only rain,
Pouring her hearts out, the mother nature weeps seeing,
Somewhere among the blissful existences and lives,
Her son, every minute, who dies going into the vain.

Have had always hated this fall of tears, the rain
Have had hated the covering of dark and black,
Over the blessed days and nights, asphyxiating wide rejoice
Having said, for me it only hails to bleed the mourn.

And today, like every that day, I’ve agonies lot to cry,
A lot to skip my beats, my breathe, my soul.
Though have the reasons got defined, still I blame her not
But to this natural curse, which has torn the stories been inscribed.

Now that you’ve got the flow, fall along the fall,
Can’t stop this while, as I adore your depart,
When the colossal nature will advance with time,
Standing beneath a shed, I’ll stand and wait
As while you make return, the hour might be dark and late.


(05:30)