Dripping... Dropping...

The shy drops hang from the ceiling.

The blue moves slowly away.

The space now unveiling

Different shades of gray.

Dropping... Dripping...

The smell of the roses,

The green moss and grass

Covered with the moistness

That lets the fog pass.

Dropping... Dripping...

Down the slopes the torrent

Flows to the river stream,

Filling the turbid current

In the skies the flashes gleam.

Dripping... Dropping...

The hot coffee steaming,

The mountains nearby.

It's time for day-dreaming,

Rain falls from the sky.

Dropping... Dripping...