Rainy Day

Rainy Day

Rain pours down
The house is trumpetting jazz
The world is swinging
Rain drips through the ceiling
Keeping its rhythm
With the groovey beat

Trees cower from the rain
Scratch against the window pane
Knocking tock-tock
Playing their part
While funk inside the record player
The trumpet starts again

It's jazz man,
Yeah jazz....

Sun comes out now
Dries up the drips
Blue sky, fluff and floss

But cars outside still murmur and hum
Splashing sploshes in the background of the beat

The man inside the record player
Croaks another sad tune
The trumpet tells him that's okay
Even though he's a bore

We're both too tired to care
Happy just to leave them there
Inside the record player
Inside the sleeve
Inside wherever else they might want to be

They're only musicians
And like the weather
They just share our world