Rain cloud, rain cloud please go away,
Rain cloud, rain cloud I'll ask you not to spray
Your water upon my head, my hair, or in my shoes.
Can you not see, my dearest rain cloud, I already have the blues?
Summer is drifting further away as is its warm air.
Nights are getting colder and trees are going to be laid bare.
The beautiful green of their leaves will fall so very fast.
A memory of the sweetness of summer, I had hoped would forever last.
When days were quietly serene, gently warm and unusually long.
The wondrous sounds of birds in trees singing their melancholy song.
Crickets chirping loudly drifted throughout the night air.
Little creatures scampering about without any feeling of danger or care.
So rain cloud, rain cloud I asked you to go away.
Rain cloud rain cloud please don't spray
Your water upon my head, my hair, or in my shoes.
I had once told you dear rain cloud, I already have the blues.