Sometimes it rains through the clear sky
Like the sky is cleansing itself and getting it all out.
Sometimes I sit and wonder about the sky through
The whiskey mind and the clouds of smoke.
There is something in that smoke that makes a man wonder.
There is something in the sky that does the same.
The whiskey is cold, and it tastes like freedom,
The only thing that one cares about always.
The only thing that one gets less of every day.
The only thing that is being taken away slowly.
You can’t take the words out of the song.
It’s been written this way. It is meant to be this way.
It wouldn’t be the same song otherwise.
There is music in the air, and there is smoke.
There is a brave heart, and there are bluebirds in the sky.
There is a strong mind and a weak soul
And there are so many books meant to be read
But most of them will be forgotten.
There is so much in life that it takes several lives
To live honestly and fully and experience everything.
Some men never lived, and some never died.
When it rains, the world stops, and everyone is waiting for it to stop.
When it rains, the soul wants to get out there and be free,
And wash itself out in that warm summer rain.
Some things will never be the same as people
Would never be the same.
There are songs that never will be played again.
Like the song of freedom.
