by Mitchell Fitzgerald

Created on: September 05, 2009

Here I stand,
It is pouring rain.
Yet I am dry.
And I feel no pain.

The clouds are dark,
But my sight is bright,
I feel no sanity,
I feel no fright.

I hear your songs,
Of gentle times,
Where people lived,
And people died.

I've realized my promise,
And it is one I will keep.
I stand in the dome of shelter,
Where the evil do not sleep.

I feel we have a connection,
The thing that keeps me dry.
Is what we have an assurance?
Well, it is only for you and I.

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