Monday, March 13, 2006
One of my favorite albums of the 70's:
Once upon a time in the land of misty satin dreams, there stood a house and a man who painted nature scenes. He painted trees, and fields, and animals, and streams, and he stayed and he didn't hear the fallin' of the rain.
In the forest green lived a girl who put her hair in braids, and she sang as she walked all around the wooded glade. She was glad when the rain came falling on her face, and she sang, 'Cause she didn't mind the fallin' of the rain.
Will it always be the same as we recall? Does it touch you when the rain begins to fall? Ah, but I don't want to know, and I don't want to see, another rainy day without you lyin' next to me.
High upon a hill far away from all the dusty crowd is a boy with his eyes on the ground; his head is bowed; he is a fool, and his mind is filled with hopeless dreams, and he waits but he will not see the fallin' of the rain.
Will it always be the same as we recall? Does it touch you when the rain begins to fall? Ah, but I don't want to know and I don't want to see Another rainy day without you lyin' next to me.
So now the boy becomes the man who sits and paints all day, but the girl with the braids in her hair has gone away. And it seems that time has brought things to an end; nothing's changed 'cause you can't stop the fallin' rain. No, you can't stop the falling of the rain.