Watching all the Dragon Rain, Comes darting down like fire from Heaven,
Rivers down the garden drain, warps the wood and drowns the flowers,
Makes me think of years ago, when as a child I heard the highway,
Listened to the wheels a-hummin' down the blacktop soaked with showers..
The faces I've worn and the songs I've sung, not one has ever been my own,
And I'm feeling old though still I'm young, the scenery hasn't changed in all this time,
The motors still send up a dreary drone, the beacons flash from towers on the hill,
I sit, and take the time to be alone..
Rocking in a metal chair, I wonder if I'll find a future,
I struggle through the heavy air, to think myself to dream again,
Breaking off these past few years and all their shades that had me blinded,
Soon I'll hear Sweet Freedom's Voice, come singin' in the Dragon Rain..
The faces are worn out and the songs are only memories,
So I'll find my own smooth chord change to voice the words within me,
The scenery hasn't now nor will it change,
The young girl's dreams are once again alive,
The rain may flood the flowers for a while,
But like the roots I'll drink my fill.. and thrive..
Watching all the Dragon Rain The lamplit drops explode and die.. Despite the chill will I remain.. To watch them falling from the sky.