another step...

towards getting back on one's feet...

and again - astoundingly - there's no such thing as original feelings, i assume - just new words ...

I could blame it on the moon, for callin’ me out tonight

Maybe I’m just a little bit lonesome, baby,

Or maybe my head ain’t right.

And I could walk down to the station, see my reflection on the ground

Receding in the ripples, but I do not hear a sound.

I don’t hear a sound.

And well, the devil, she comes to me, says “Boy, you wanna go out tonight.”,

She’s got a 40 ounce hurricane in her left hand, and a .45 in her right.

And 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,

It’s just a dream.

And oh and I ain’t the man I wanna be,

They call it freedom as you’re reachin’ for your chain.

And oh and 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 could blame it on the moon, for calling me out tonight

Maybe I’m just a little bit lonesome, baby,

Or maybe my head ain’t right.

And I ain’t trying to sing the blues, it’s bloody fingers and guitar strings,

These 12 bars is just a prison when there’s nothing else left to sing,

Nothing left to sing.

And oh and I ain’t the man I wanna be,

They call it freedom as you’re reachin’ for your chain.

And oh and 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 hate the rain.

Like I hate the rain.

I hate the rain.