I am pre olympique when I breath, a son from the 12 if you please

I hold up the skies on the cloudy nights
or when there is nothing but coloured lights

The grandfather, Uranus, he is who I hold
up as he is heaven for his story to be told

My shoulders weigh down as the bearer of bad news
Bad days and bad storms too

And when the clouds cry, I chuckle a ‘tee-hee’
For as when the new race of humans believe
And they get a sense of that cold breeze

They don’t realize the rain that falls
isn’t even rain, not really a little bit
not really even at all

For when I hide away
And get betrayed

But not by Herakles, no by the world
By the one whom I hold

I let them fall
The tears of a titan
The tears of a little girl

Human and all