It won’t be me looking down
with tears streaming down my face.
It won’t be me this time with my hands in my pockets
reaching for something that only comes up empty.
It won’t be me opening an umbrella in the rain;
I want to feel what comes when it comes.
And when it comes
I want it to feel good.
So when you reach for the paper to read the news
just remember it won’t be me this time crying the blues.