In a pouring rain music is prepared to be abandoned
Rhythm can be off to the atonal monochromatic pasture
Leaves are pushed before their time off of trees looking ever more
Surreal instincts fuel passion projected into thicker air
Artist insipid spice cabinet pepper
Corn syrup cases bringing celery limp
Feel the rain come down into the place where you live
Roofs are only as proof of the delicious delirium
Thatch on floors covered cracks and rust
My fingers rebel at the insistence that arbitrary rules persist
Intuition exudes confidence which should never be dismissed
Final note and then one more generate a sense of hearing, in store
Quiet house of stilling life yields narrow choice of how to light
In a pouring rain the chords create a certain clarity
Slowing storm yields less and less
Indecent pain goes buried deeper to analogies furious furtive keeper
The crows wake up to morning darkened
Stealing peaks from mountains to hide in the naked trees
Roman Ryan 