Bobby sips his morning coffee
Says `Have you finished with
the funnies
Looks like a storm's coming
honey
guess we'll have to stay in
bed today'
I've heard that into every
life
a little of it must fall
If there's any truth to the
saying,
Lord, let it be a southern
rain
Marie was born in Macon, Georgia
She met a west coast lawyer
He plucked that sweet magnolia
and carried her to the hills
of West L.A.
She says `I never thought I'd
tire of a dollar
But this life has grown so
hollow
Every night there's lipstick
on his collar
and every morning I wash it
away'
She heard that into every life
a little of it must fall
So she spends her evenings
praying
for a little of that southern
rain
Cars alive on city streets
of sparkling black water
like waves beneath my window
never break just roll away
Tonight, this rain will be
my lullaby
these cars, my dreams
to carry me home to stay
The wipers beat a rhythm
Truck spray obscures my vision
But I'm closing in on my destination
Two more hours and I'll be
at your door
And it will never cease to
amaze me
how a little rain can drive
folks crazy
When I'd trade all my blue
skies gladly
for your blue eyes, crooked
smile
and a steady downpour
I've heard that into every
life
a little of it must fall,
but you'll never catch me
complaining
about too much of that southern
rain
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |