The flowers miss the rain
without it there is pain
The grasses miss the dew
the raindrops that are new
The flowers miss the morning mist the rain from nights before would bring
Spring may come and it may go
But only drought is known
The flowers miss the rain
the land has now become a desert
the hope of rain is gone
the dream lives on that someday it will return
but more likely the flowers they will burn
The flowers now accept
that the rain is not coming back
The flowers miss the rain
Without him there is pain
