Don Conoscenti

there was a girl, who is a woman
and a man who was a child
and the child was forced into a place
he could not reconcile
this is not the only rain
that will fall on their parade

leaves blow by like drifting sand
like god's hand rushing up my street
and it makes a sound so sweet
there is a strong desire
to stick our hands into the fire
there is a strong desire
to stick our hands into the fire
hands into the fire