The Rain

by James Wilson

I could blame it on the moon
For calling me out tonight
Maybe I'm just a little bit lonesome
And maybe my head ain't right

I could walk down to the station
See my reflection on the ground
Receding in the ripples
But I do not hear a sound

The devil, she comes to me
Says, 'Boy, do you want to go out tonight?'
She's got a 40-ounce Hurricane in her left hand
And a .45 in her right

You're dying just to touch her
But your heart just wants to scream
So you pull her just a little bit closer
And pretend it's all just a dream

I ain't the man I want to be
They call it freedom
As you're reaching for your chains
I'm haunted by the memories
Of who I used to be
When I didn't hate the rain
Like I hate the rain

I ain't trying to sing the blues
It's bloody fingers and guitar strings
'Cause 12 bars is just a prison
When there's nothing else left to sing