I watched him watch the thunder, Tiny eyes mesmerized by the hum of a rainstorm's cry, Before I knew if they'd be blue or brown or hazel or green. He seemed to forget I was there While the rain and the rain and the raindrops Told him This world is your world now.
I hated it the first time Because it was strange and painful, Made me shake and shame And I was sore. Swore I'd never, never Again. Until I did Again, And I hated it again And it hurt and it hurt again And I promised again I'd never do it again, Never could do it again. Until I did Again and again and again, And it became routine, A comfort and an expectation, I could count on such things Because I couldn't count on me. It wasn't until I realized it was just a Stupid Tradition Held together by the weakest strings -