You and I are both made of clouds, girl,
but who ties us?
Give me your hand and let's sit down
under any statue.
For it's time to live and dream and believe
the rain has to come
pouring down.
We are kneaded with freedom, girl,
but who ties us?
Get your clay ready, your place chosen,
your march arranged.
We have to suffer from life until we believe
the rain has to come
pouring down.
They will remain asleep
in their safety current accounts.
They will plan to sell life and death and peace.
Can I get you ten meters of happiness on easy terms?
But you and I both know there are signs announcing
that the siesta is over
and that a heavy rain, without bioenzymes, of course,
will clean our home.
We have to suffer from life until we believe
the rain has to come
pouring down.