No more shower, no more drop,

The rain has come to a stop,

Clouds I see out there are dark,

And the evening streets are stark,

curtains I draw to a close

(No reason to be exposed).

Not anymore,

Look out, what for?

What’s out the door?

(Rather the floor).

A mausoleum, not home,

As a corpse, cannot roam,

If a horse than cannot race,

The stable would be my place,

after drops have left their mark,

(made the track lonely and dark).

On the floor, lain,

Here I sustain

Outside’s the rain

(Washed down the drain).

Blind I am, as if to sleep,

Sad I am, as if to weep,

But tears never shall I shed,

Though I lay as if I’m dead,

Brave man rather I would be,

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