Oh how I miss the rain

I’ve seen every god damn feature

And now it all just seems the same

This town, an endless cold street

To which I’ve found myself subjected

Oh how I wish it would recede 

‘Cause this is not a city

What it is I cannot see

No, this is not my city

But how good is this tea

From across the stalwart screen

I saw the template of my story

And the suppressing of my screams

A blessing in disguise

I recognize convention

And now I see my chance to rise

Take a look out at that city

And all that you can see 

I now can see my city

And how good is my tea

I’ve lost my grip, I take a sip

I can’t relate between good and great

You’re there for me, or so I see

I’ve found a way to pacify my needs

In rising in the morning 

And regrouping from the fall

Was asked how I was feeling

But I don’t feel at all