The Rain Man

The Rain Man

Low in a valley, before a great city,
There was a man to whom you'd give pity.
He had lost the most precious thing to him.
Now his world was shallow, his spirit dim.
His only love had left for another,
And then he could only think and shudder,
As he remembered all those happy years.
Then he cried, endlessly, a million sad tears.
When he died, his sad spirit rose in vain.
And now his sad tears, have become the rain.