an old bearded oak of a man in the street yells a storm is coming soon the weather man says it will never rain again by their own respective philosophies one of them s just a body reading teleprompts in two piece suits one of them is too strange and splendid for any to comprehend i feel something s coming for me is this death or glory that hangs like lightning in the air it s been years of barren skies but i see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glare out there at the edge of town where the wind whips up whispering my name i walk the streets of this withered and wicked land my shadow darkens the door of a place i ain t been before but i shamble off in shame throwing rocks at the rooks with these brittle and broken hands i feel something s coming for me is this death or glory that hangs like lightning in the air it s been years of barren skies but i see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glare i swear i feel the rain in my bones and i imagine thunder shattering stones playing crack the sky i was scared i might be lost in the flood but now i see more than that i m just longing for love in this land so dry in the dark of the night i woke with a start and i stared across the room but all i saw was this dream burned across my brain from here to the ocean there was a field of roses and i watched them burst and bloom i saw them wither and fade but revive when they felt the rain start to fall  i feel something s coming for me is this death or glory that hangs like lightning in the air it s been years of barren skies but i see dark horizons draped like night beyond this glare