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Rainy Sunday morning.
Not much looking bright.
Wind moaning like a warning.
Leaves flutter like in fright.
Seems like tears rolling down the window pane.
Seems like years washing away in the rain.

It's a place for starting over.
It comes to us all sometimes-
when a way of letting go,
is singing in music and rhyme.

Praising the green of Springtime.
Praising the colors of Fall
Winter and Summer sunshine.
Life weaves Love through it all.

Remembering Winter firelight.
Remembering Autumn glow.
Remembering Summer sunlight -
and Spring, when the flowers grow.
It's all a part of Seasons. Seasons come and pass.
Wind and rain have reasons - washing the Window glass.

Rain falls with a rhythm.
Wind is humming along.
Leaves are dancing with 'em.
And I'm here writing this song.

It's only Sunday rain,
washing the Window pane.
Only Sunday rain . . .
washing the Window pane.
Washing the Window pane.

Sendaverse - free use - compliments of "Future Folk" Music 2000