From Good Homes - Drivin and Cryin lyrics

A log drops and the Fire creaks All eyes turn but no One speaks The air grows heavy all Thoughts the same The rain, the rain, here Comes the rain Father scoffs and the Baby cries Son gets ready and the Mother sighs The air grows heavy all Thoughts the same The rain, the rain, here Comes the rain At the podium the Voices speak Ships touch ground on a Sandy beach The air goes heavy all Thoughts the same The rain, the rain, here Comes the rain On the front line a Rifle co*ks A pin drops loaded and a Trigger locks Everyone grabs a weapon Everyone takes aim Another log drops on the Fire and flames Slave out in the field Drops his work looks up Beggar in the street drops His begging cup The air grows heavy all Thoughts the same The rain, the rain, here Comes the rain