The rain smells like concrete mildew.
It smells like the drowning ants between the cracks
We don't pay any attention to
The salt tears of our ancestors.
It smells like dying blossoms and hope,
And green like a refreshing nature song.
It smells like damp rinsed out sorrows
That are warm straight out the dryer
And beautiful early tomorrows.
It smells the same here as it does there,
It smells like love that can be made anywhere.