Sooner or later, and never later than you want,
but always earlier,
and never better than you wish,
this goddamn awful weather,
that makes you wish you were a fish,
oh, this bloody weather,
it ain’t clever,
and well,
whatever,
whatever,
whatever,
I hate the sight of it,
and I wish it would bloody quit,
quit bothering me,
for it makes me sick,
this grey, grey, grey,
oh, how I rue every day,
and far too often I stay indoors,
and I smoke cigars,
and wish I could shoot them all,
the raindrops that make me stop,
that make me stop going outside,
and I am sure that soon,
there will come,
a great flood to end it all,
to end the human race,
to end our suffering,
and the view of this miserable weather,
that always gets in my face,
that always gets in my face,
and is a disgrace,
oh, the atrocity,
oh, the boredom,
and the travesty,
of the weather that spoils my view,
and that should be replaced,
that should be replaced,
but God,
God, does not give me the grace,
the grace of an end to it all,
and oh, how it angers me,
when those raindrops continue to fall,
and I,
I look angrily to the sky,
and I hope to see Gods face,
and ask God,
why he makes the sky cry,
cry, cry, cry,
why, oh why God, why,
are you miserable yourself,
has your wife run off and left you,
have you been drinking too much,
are you in a miserable place,
God, dear God,
can’t you please just stop,
this Godamn awful rain,
from spoiling my day,
because, you know me,
you know me,
and you know how much I am paid,
and you know God,
you know that I can barely afford,
a holiday,
and nothing improves,
no matter how much I pray,
and it is always the same,
Oh, goddamn the rain,
goddamn the rain,
are you God,
are you not ashamed,
are you not ashamed,
because it seems such a shame,
when you have created so many colours,
to keep continually,
laying before my eyes,
these cursed rain drops,
and this seemingly eternal,
grey, grey, grey,
oh, dear God,
can you not,
can you not make it stop,
say, 6 days a week, until I am in my Grave,
and then, God,
you can do what the hell you like,
and I wouldn’t mind,
I wouldn’t mind to see,
those bloody awful raindrops fall,
so, if you could please,
kindly stop this infernal rain,
6 days a week,
I wouldn’t cry,
and if you created a new ocean,
somewhere else,
but not where I live, I really wouldn’t mind,
I wouldn’t mind a bit,
but until then, dear God, forgive me,
forgive me, If I get a gun,
and shoot at the raindrops,
and at heaven for a bit.
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