Something about rainy days,
puts me in a strange mood.
Reminds of long winding roads, with trees dripping water.
A hunk on his motorcycle zipping away in the rain,
and a little girl with him with wind in her hair.
Passing little villages and cowherds with cattle,
ponds with lilies and temple bells ringing.
With the thundering of the bike,
you could also hear a little voice singing.
The rider roaring with laughter,
the girl shouting, faster papa, faster.
With arms wide open welcoming the speed,
like sitting with a knight and his beautiful steed.
Those days are long gone,
And my papa does not ride anymore, but he did,
give me a love for drives, for sure,
Driving to nowhere with rain in my face
and the wind in my hair.
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