The Tragedy of the Young Composer
Rain like thunder, and
thunder like rain, and
the boy shall never
come home again
and the sky is pale while the winds are strong
but he has been away too long
Too long,
the song
that's gone
goes on
But the tree limbs knock on the windowpane
and the boy shall never come home again
Notes like thunder;
a musical note
on the black piano;
the song he wrote
But the world goes around and around again
and the song plays on like the wind and the rain
These days
it plays--
Who hears
the years
the tears
and fears
hurting the madman and maddening the sane?--
but the boy shall never come home again
Hands like thunder, and
thundering hands:
Crash and crash like
waves on sands
And the song swirls on like a pool down a drain
He watches and stares 'till he doubts he's sane
Go down!
the sound
grows soft;
Aloft,
they hold back the thunder and the rain
but the boy shall never come home again
Rain like thunder, and
thundering rain,
ratta-tat-tat on the
windowpane
While the wind is blowing and the song goes on
They say to each other, 'when will't be gone?'
It stays
and plays
and years
or fears
Make their tears come like the coming of rain
But the boy, he never comes home again
Back to the Index.