The sun slides behind a cloud,
rain is coming soon.
Lightning twinkles, thunder is loud,
and it's dark enough for the moon.

Rain is coming soon,
they say on the flickering TV.
It's dark enough for the moon,
but it's daytime hours to me.

They say on the flickering TV
that tornadoes could be near.
But it's daytime hours to me,
though thunder makes it hard to hear.

Tornadoes could be near,
it't hot enough, after all,
though thunder makes it hard to hear,
and there's no quiet before the fall.

It's hot enough, after all,
for the rain to sizzle as it lands.
There's no quiet before the fall,
no tornadoes close at hand.

For the rain to sizzle as it lands
requires enough cement.
No tornadoes close at hand,
but I detect a soft lament.

It requires enough cement,
of which we have not much,
but I detect a soft lament
that gives a gentle touch.

Of which we have not much,
of anything 'round here
that gives a gentle touch,
or is pleasant to the ear.

If anything, 'round here
there's just the rain
that's pleasant to the ear,
and strikes against the pane.

There's just the rain,
lightning twinkles, thunder is loud,
that strikes against the pane,
as the sun slides behind a cloud.