I could predict a pretty heavy
Thunderstorm if you'd let me
Take shelter beneath your waist line
I'd find time
For breaking news
To let you know that there would soon
Be thunder and lighting
And possibly biting, and scratching, and screaming
With gusts so rough
You might end up bleeding
But the waves you'll see receding from the shoreline
Will leave you with time to reconcile
And keep your heart from oberbeating