What are you up to now?" "I'm sill crazy. The rain feels good. I love to walk in it.
I lay in bed at night crying to myself. The only one who loved me and watched over me was someone I couldn't see or hear or touch.
You are crying! You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see! All I wanted was to be loved for myself.
And I shall drive my chariot
Down your streets and cry
'Hey, it's me, I'm dynamite
And I don't know why'
We shall walk and talk
In gardens all misty wet with rain
And I will never, never, never
Grow so old again
The poet walked alone in a cold late rain,
And thought his grief was like the crying of sea-birds;
For his lover was dead, he never would love again.
My Sorrow, when she’s here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
I cry intermittently, like a summer rain. I don't feel racked by the crying; in fact, it hydrates me. Then rage wells up in me, and I want to take a crowbar to all the cars in the neighborhood.
I always like walking in the rain, so no one can see me crying.”
?Charles Chaplin
Don't threaten me with love, baby. Let's just go walking in the rain.
She didn't mind a little rain. At least no one would see her cry.