Handful of Rain

Having a bit of a moment last night, not really quite sure why. Then again, I'm not sure it really matters.

We're all sitting about waiting for something. Right now many are waiting for the Rugby World Cup to start. Others, for the seasons to change... and others for things far more important.

Me, I'm waiting for the rain. This is something I do every year around this time, waiting for that thunderstorm that officially marks Spring (lets face it, dates don't really define anything).

So today I'm going to an old classic from the Greatest Band of all time! Yeah, I know I've put this one in a few times already. "Handful of Rain" somehow seems to tell the tale of my life in so many ways. Right now, with too many years lost, I'm waiting on that storm. Something to shake things up, something to wash a lot away but most importantly, something to refresh and renew that which has gone thirsty for far too long.

The night is growing dark
From somewhere deep within
It shelters like an ark
And always takes you in

The barmaid walks on over
And pours another round
For a lost soul at the corner
Who prays he's never found

And the mind goes numb
'Till it's feeling no pain
And the soul cries out
For a handful of rain

Wash your women
In your whiskey
When your future's
In the past
And you're staring
Up at heaven
From the bottom
Of a glass
And you need some insulation
From the years you've
Had and lost
And you feel the perspiration
As you're adding up the cost

And the night rolls on
Like a slow moving train
And the soul cries out

There's a land
Beyond the living
There's a land
Beyond the dead
If it's true that
God's forgiving
Of the lives that we have led
In the distance
There's a thunder
And the air is thick and warm
And the patrons
Watch with wonder
The approaching of the storm

And the night rolls on
Like a slow moving train
And the soul cries out
For a handful of rain

All right

There's an old man in the corner
And he's smoking all the time
And the smoke is drifting
Upward and it's
Twisting in my
Twisting in my
Mind
In my mind

The whiskey's getting deeper
And I use it like a moat
There's a blues man in the distance and he's
Lost inside his
Lost inside his note
His note
His note

The night is growing dark
From somewhere deep within
It shelters like an ark
That always takes you in

And the night rolls on
Like a slow moving train
And the soul cries out
For a handful of rain

Difference is, I'm not looking for shelter... just the rain.