Walking down the street, the wind blowing in my face,
Blowing like the open door of a blast furnace.
Dry heat, heavy heat, washing over me
As I walk beneath the yellow-white hot sky,
Drying me out until there's nothing left.
Just a rasin in the sun.
Sweat running down through my hair,
Over my face, and arms, and chest like a river.
So cry me a river baby, because I'm hot
and you're hot, and the sun is shining,
and that hot wind just keeps on blowing.
Blowing, blowing to blow you to cinders.
Hot, hot, hot until the day is done.
Dry skies and golden sunsets
Weep fire and blood across the sky,
Leaving us tired, hot and dry,
Looking for sweet, soft, twilight shade.
