Weatherman

So much fear out there now. Gas prices going up, election, and increasing concerns about a spirling economy. Every day, cause of my job, I listen to it.



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There's a mighty storm cloud
but it ain't raining on me
there's frightening thunder pounding
but I'm deaf you see

reach into my pocket
take what I've got to give
but don't reach into a socket
a man's got's to live

Poor men on the street
think the rich man got it all
even when a poor man got nothin' to eat
he can still be full

Seems to me the reason
everyone's so scared
is they ain't got the season
blowing through their hair

Talking men talk
they say what you fear
but I've also got the chalk
I can write it, even if you don't hear

No one seems to look
at what they got
on chess board they are a rook
and that ain't their lot

Every direction but no direction
can't be lost
when you don't have vision
or someone to trust

Rushing and turning
going and going
turning and burning
no giving and taking

there ain't no weatherman knowing
what's coming tomorrow
we ain't got nothing but future roaring
so hang up your sorrow

What matters isn't the fist
forget spells weaved
there's this day's first kiss
you don't have to leave

Future's are made to realize
no guarantee there's more
time to swat the flies
and see what life has in store