He doesn’t run
From
The Sun
Or the Father or Daughter
Mother or Wife
Or Himself
He runs
To
Them
As if he’s on fire
And in need
Of their sweet, sweet rain
He doesn’t run
From
The Sun
Or the Father or Daughter
Mother or Wife
Or Himself
He runs
To
Them
As if he’s on fire
And in need
Of their sweet, sweet rain