The Thunderclouds broke up.
The rain dried up, the lightning let up, the clacking shutters just shut up.
There's no black or white, no change in the light, no night, no golden sun.
The sound of cars, the smell of bars, the awful feeling of electric heat.
Under fluorescent lights, there's sacrifice. There's hard feelings, there's pointless waste. 
I want wind to blow my clothes off me, sweep me off my feet, take me up and not bring me back.
Where I can see days pass by me, I have no human head to hold in grief.
But there's no hope for me, I've been set "free", there's no breeze, there's no ship on my sea.