Intro Sky folds metal like a hymn in tin. Verse 1 Thunder in the bleachers, raindrops keep score, Vendors pack hope through the tunnel door. I put my hood up, you take my hand, We learn new joy in the empty stands. Plans on paper bleed into streams, We trade the script for living seams. Pre-Chorus If the sky says “wait,” we won’t obey— We’ll find a rhythm anyway. Two and four on a rusted rail— A choir starts without the veil. Chorus If the storm calls time, I’ll sing from the metal seats, Clap a pocket halo till the thunder beats. We’ll toast the soaked and bless the sound, Let the lightning aim, we won’t bow down. If the night gets loud, I’ll find your feet— We’ll dance in place till the rain is sweet. Verse 2 Scoreboard flickers, numbers give in, We keep the time with a borrowed grin. Hot breath fog on the program page, We underline “now” and close the stage. No refunds here—just louder grace, A weatherproof, small holy place. Pre-Chorus If the sky says “wait,” we keep the beat— Hope wears puddles, not retreat. Chorus If the storm calls time… Bridge (half-time) Crowd of a dozen, city of none, Echo turns empty into someone. When the world delays, we still begin— A little choir against the wind. Final Chorus If the storm calls time… Tag Rain quits. We don’t. Night smiles.
