[Intro] I checked the forecast six times. Still got soaked. [Verse 1] I schedule the sunrise, pencil the clouds, tell the traffic, “behave,” like it listens somehow. Coffee on the console, one hand on the wheel, arguin’ with a red light like the color can feel. Phone says “delay,” I take that as betrayal, rain hits the glass, now I’m cross-examining hail. I want people on cue, every word in its place, every door to stay open, every loss erased. Funny — I grip so hard my knuckles turn white, trying to hold the whole world till it holds me at night. [Pre-Chorus] The storm never signed what I wrote in my head, so I prosecute thunder from the edge of my bed. But the sky don’t report to the plans I design, and the first thing to break is the grip in my mind. [Chorus] Let it rain. Let it change. (I don’t own the sky) I own what I do when it breaks. Let it rain. Let it change. (I don’t own the sky) I own what I do when it breaks. [Verse 2] I wanted her answer before she could speak, wanted next Friday solved by the middle of the week. Wanted time on a leash, bad news on mute, wanted every loose screw in the universe screwed. That’s a hell of a job for a man in a room, with a cracked phone screen and a sink full of spoons. So the world kept moving — rude, unsupervised, while I built little prisons out of “should” and “why.” Then it hit me: pain knocks, but I furnished the place, gave it keys, gave it rent, put my name on the safe. [Pre-Chorus] Reality wasn’t swinging, I was shadowboxing facts, throwing punches at the ocean, getting saltwater back. And the more that I wrestled, the less I could breathe, so I opened my fist and let it come clean. [Chorus] Let it rain. Let it change. (I don’t own the sky) I own what I do when it breaks. Let it rain. Let it change. (I don’t own the sky) I own what I do when it breaks. [Bridge] Now I still get mad — don’t mistake me for Zen, I still curse at the printer when it jams up again. Still rehearse conversations nobody will say, still try moving tomorrow out the path of today. But I catch that hand reaching for the wheel of the world, and I loosen one finger, let the chaos unfurl. Not surrender — more like knowing my lane: I can’t veto the weather, I can choose where I aim. [Verse 3] If the plan falls apart, let the pieces be proof: I’m not king of the storm, just the man in the booth. Outside does what it does, no permission, no plea. Inside is the one place that still answers to me. [Final Chorus] Let it rain. Let it change. (I don’t own the sky) I own what I do when it breaks. Let it rain. Let it change. (I don’t own the sky) I own what I do when it breaks. [Outro] Forecast: uncertain. Response: mine.
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