You wish the rain would stop its constant wet,
Prefer it when the drizzle becomes dry.
The inconvenience brings out a sigh:
It upsets your pure brilliant project.
You authorise the sun to rise and set,
Permit the forest wind to stroke the trees,
Put up with birdsong if it so you please
Instead of finding good in what you get.
Stop labouring, stop dragging 'round your pain.
Your worrying won't fix or even change
The big stuff running higher, secret laws.
Ignore that shit. Those problems just aren't yours.
Please, focus on the beautiful and strange,
There ain't no shame, you don't have to explain.