As the water fell on to the rooftops,
dripped down and fed the crops,
the last cloud had been drained,
the sunshine had long waned
and they all took it upon themselves to complain,
boarded their trains, home-bound nothing here left to gain,
the crowds have been entertained,
this turn of events was like a stain,
on the canvas of this beautiful day,
which went away,
just as quickly as it came,
which took a turn for the worse,
was this a curse?
In the midst of this decay,
no one wants to stay,
no one wants to play.
No this time there is too much to pay,
and that is all I have to say.