Let it pour with all the sky's might
Let the rain fall for forty days and nights
Let it sprinkle from way up high
Let it all fall down from the sky
Let the water wash away my pain
Purify me with your cleansing rain
Allow the wind to be a gale
Allow my boat to set sail
And on the forty-first day
I shall send a bird to look for clay
And it will return with a leaf in its beak
And the land I now shall seek
And when I see the sun in the sky
I shall smile and happily cry
And when I spot that piece of land
I will jump down and kiss the sand
Now it is day forty-seven
And I am happy, for it does not rain in heaven
