This Town in the Rain - Anthony Stewart Head, George Sarah

Nothing’s as sobering or, quite frankly, depressing

As looking out on LA in the rain

The colours of the houses, the pinks and pale blues

Against the slab gray sky is all wrong — it’s just wrong

And the palm trees, with their dead leaves

Have a hangdog expression like someone took their fun away

The tired, tarmacadam strips, just watching idiots

Slip and slide as their tires lose their grip on the road

Didn’t anybody tell them you can’t drive the same — drive insane in the rain?

In this town…

This town in the rain

The sidewalks are soused as the guttering, so used to drought

Spews the water out in loud, gushing spouts

Like Hurricane Harbour… without the fun

And parking lots are like boating lakes as pockets and puddles

Seem to spring out of the ground

There’s nowhere it can run to, with no concept of run-off

Hunted hand haunted it lies there in great gulps

No drains

No gain

This town…

This town in the rain