Leaving on a Mayday, fine summer painin his heart on his tounge, the taste is sweet againLeaving on a Mayday, fine summer painBut he said a feather, and his mind can take all, his feet are moving againLet it rain, on me, let it rainLet it rain, on me, let it rainMorning comes, wakes him up, he looks out at the parking lotSees the house, he was born, almost 57 years agoWhere his brother lives, where his sister moved, and all three went to unfinished schoolWhere the father died, in `59, and mother did in 63`He`s reminded of her when he looks at me.Let it rain, on me, let it rainLet it rain, on me, let it rainLet it rain, on me, let it rainLet it rain, on me, let it rainThat`s how, that`s how all things growThat`s how, that`s how all things grow