The Morning Rain

Every morning I dance naked Singing in the morning rain. None are there to observe my antics None to share a laugh or pain. Well, the angels perhaps. I'm sure they chuckle When I reword tunes From the radio's knuckle. I'll sing opera, in my strongest untuned voice With a cast of one, and an audience the same Oh the cat? Yep, he's both one and none More interested in the craziness than the game. He'll accompany me, sometimes (singing, not showering) And mewl in his finest voice Mostly he just keeps me company 'Cause he can, by choice. So before the sun is awake And before the sky blazes orange and the stars wane And before my waking dreams have faded My song resounds in my warm morning rain.