It's raining on my parade,

There is no love, no warmth here.

Only this supposed charade,

What can I now say, dear?

I do wish that it would stop,

Not the rain, just the lie,

The untruths, deceptions and to top

It all, I still ask why?

08/23/2005

Posted on 04/03/2007
Copyright © 2025 Joe Cramer