words of the day---neil peart

Bless the sun, the rain no more
River running like an open sore
Black wind falling to the ocean floor
And the red tide washes ashore.

This is not a false alarm
This is not a test
Nowhere we can fly away, nowhere we can rest
The party is disrupted by an uninvited guest.

Deadline approaches
For the weary land
It used to be something
But we let it run down in our hands.