Grey

The rain drips in slow motion
I see it from my window and hope that it will wash me away
but then the sun comes out again and the clouds roll away
and I am still here withering to grey

a tear rolls from my eyes in silent release
as I see the blue sky and the breeze through the trees
I use to love the sunshine
I remember those happy times
but gone away like winter's sparrow
and left me like a bare limb
on which there was once thriving life
but now is bitter brittle and dead

the wind it blows so softly
I lean against its breath
and pray that it blow me away until I've nothing left
and take me to some merry place behind a rainbow's wall
and let me leave it all
but then the breeze drifts away and I am still here
withering to grey

So I beg father time please come and relieve me you are my last hope
why do you punish me
but the clock on the wall says nothing and with nothing else to say
but I am still here, withering to grey.