An old bearded oak of a man in the street yells, "A storm is coming soon". The weather man says it will never rain again. By their own perspective philosophies one of them's just a body. Reading teleprompts in two-piece suits, One of them is too strange and splendid for any to comprehend. I feel somethin's coming for me. Is this d**h or glory that hangs like lightning in the air? It's been years of barren skies, But I see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glare Out there at the edge of town, Where the wind whips up, whispering my name. I walk the streets of this withered and wicked land. My shadow darkens the door of a place I ain't been before, But I shamble off in shame. Throwing rocks at the rooks with these brittle and broken hands. I feel somethin's coming for me. Is this d**h or glory that hangs like lightning in the air? It's been years of barren skies, But I see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glare I swear I feel the rain in my bones, And I imagine thunder shattering stones, playing crack the sky. I was scared I might be lost in the floor but now, I see more than that I'm just longing for love and this land's so dry. In the dark of the night I woke with a start, And I stared across the room, But all I saw was this dream burned across my brain. From here to the ocean there was a field of roses, I watched them burst and bloom. I saw them wither and fade but revive, When they felt the rain start to fall. I feel somethin's coming for me. Is this d**h or glory that hangs like lightning in the air? It's been years of barren skies, But I see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glare.