Here's a song for your ears that you've heard through the years
As it's chords are like many the same.
Such is life so it seems as the business folk dream
Of a place that they'd rather call home.
As they sit in their cubes with their lives on repeat
To work the same day until they get old.
But the tragedy lies in the ones who survive
Just to find out they have ruined themselves.
To the men and the women, who work in the fields
And the factories and the kitchens and the trains.
Here's to those whom without, this great country would die.
To my family, my neighbors, and my friends.
(Oh) I'm gonna go out and have me a night
And I'm gonna sing out a song for the rain.
Because this life is to strange to make way through it dry
So let's drink until the morning again.
So I climbed to the top of this
That just happens to be named after the place where i live.
And from the peak of that monstrous man-made machine
I looked out on the city and my part of Jersey.
And there breathing it in, was then struck by an idea
That had to do with the people of my time
And how the things that they say and what's inside of their minds
Are so frequently further from being the same
That i often can't tell if who they are will remain
Where they stand at the end of our conversation.
And from this thought I have formed a complaint.
And I speak this now not from the lips of a saint.
No, I have certainly sinned, yes I've lived
And I hate to quote Bobby because I know that I look just like him
But I must also say what Ezra Pound did.
He said if a culture allows their language to die
Then nothing else that they do from that point will survive.
And with this in my head, I sat down and listened
To the person in charge of me but I could not comprehend
A single word that he said
Because he didn't say anything.
(Oh)
So I'm gonna go out and have me a night
And I'm gonna sing out a song for the rain.
Because this life is to strange to make way through it dry
So let's drink until the morning again.