The Drought

Unruly type of sun
Willing to spare no one
From the plains up to the peaks
This heat’s stealing faith from the weak
Amidst the burning breeze
From the ground up through the trees
I hear the birds complain
About the lack of the rain
And it’s not the same life
Here the morning’s like a knife
And the river’s been bone dry
Where the day is not fond of light
Unruly til the night
Shades
From the plains up to the peaks
This heat’s stealing faith from the weak
Amidst the burning breeze
From the ground up through the trees
I hear the birds complain
About the lack of the rain
It’s bearing down on me
No clouds in the sky
I hear the pines crack and cry:
«There's no reason to try»
And it’s not the same life
Here the morning’s like a knife
And the river’s been bone dry
Where the day is not fond of light
It’s bearing down on me
No clouds in the sky
I hear the pines crack and cry:
«There's no reason to try»