Rain, rain, rain A thousand tiny drops upon the pane Marching in their millions toward the drain And whose to say those drops are all the same? Against the shutters, splash and down they go Into the Gutters, or to rivers flow Rain, rainy day On rooftops or on treetops either way The curbsides and the creek beds know the way To turn these drops to streams that flow away To fill the rivers, bound by banks and shores Or to the sewer, down the gutter's course Drawn by weeds in stagnant pools of mud Or tossed in torrents, agents of the flood To lay to rest in placid lake Or raging for a dam to break Their destiny, eventually, the sea...