Isn't it amazing
The troubled children
One does find
That must complain
of too much rain
Hear their refrain
They mumble so
Isn't it upsetting
The solicitous children
That come to mind
That find in vain
The weather's wrong
A sad, sad song
They grumble so
Isn't it deploring
The luckless children
Of every kind
To their disdain
Find pockets empty
They have no money
They babble so
O the bitter, bitter agony
Of these confused
little children
With their frustration
And anticipation
They wonder why
Their wagon's red
Wonder why
Their God is dead
Wouldn't it be rewarding
If these hapless children
Would learn in time
Though they strain
And complain
That will never
Stop the rain...
Author: George Campos
Upland, California
11.24.00
Authors Comments:
"My Dad asked me if I knew what
they do in China when it rains?
The answer was,
Let it rain."
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