Wet tendrils of copper and black stick to my head,
I refuse to let this rain bother me.

In my ears a string of songs play,
most of them sad.
I refuse to let the lyrics get to me.

New York City is a magical place.
I had made the mistake of forgetting that when I let life get me down,
when I chose to focus on ignored phone calls and unrequited love.

Not anymore.
Water has always symbolized life,
so now, as I walk these city streets in a downpour
I feel alive.