Looks Like Rain

Black are the clouds that sweep from the sea, crashing through trees to thrash toward me Objects are flying the air is alive, a storm that rumbles in sheets it arrives A roof is walking without any soles, and the pants of priests hang off light poles A street sign flys past at the speed of light, a police car follows its headlights shine bright Deep in the cellar we shiver and shake, as the world around turns into a lake And all this goes on inside my head, cause outside my window the silence is dead