It's hot here on the balcony
I suppose the rain is coming soon
There are many flies this year
And the storm moves in
It starts to rain at last
I'm getting wet all over
And you are getting wet
Outside there in the grass
Under the oak tree
It's very dark and quiet over there

I wander if God's still mad at me, but I can't have you
Nobody will, nobody will

I suppose He isn't mad
The rain washes the dirt of my hands
And the dirt out of my mind
It's raining and I take another drink
It's getting colder, I suppose God isn't pleased
After all
You know, sometimes it gets quite lonely up here
On my balcony
I suppose I'll have to go inside, to become a little
Warm again.

I wander if God's still mad at me, but I can't have you
Nobody will, nobody will

I wander if God's still mad at me, but I can't have you
Nobody will, nobody will