Help me fix the roof
while we fight about the rain.
Another storm is brewing
and we'll both get wet again.
The paint has started peeling
to reveal the deeper truth:
that the rain may fall forever,
so please help me fix the roof.
Hand me my old hammer
you can hate me if you must,
but the water that we're drinking
is from the rain you so distrust.
In your eyes there burns an anger,
your voice, a frightened stammer.
I promise it'll be all right
If you'll just hand me my hammer.
Hold my ladder steady
as you hold me to my word.
It's easier to build a roof
than form something absurd.
Some day we may not need the storm,
for that, I'm more than ready,
but that day is not today,
please hold my ladder steady.
And one day after I'm dead,
should drought bring thirst and pain,
you might hear then all I have said,
and not mind so much the rain.
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