My mouth is dry,
My skin is dirty,
Just one drop of rain,
Is all I ever wanted.

The drought is winning,
The people are dying,
My town is falling,
What can we do?

When will the skies
Save our hives?
O how I wish
That we will be saved.

But all there’s to do,
Is to be strong of hope.
Cus that desire in you,
Is what keeps us going.

I look the town over,
The people lost their hope.
Should I join them?
Is hope truly lost?

My head is down,
My hope is low,
A tear drops down,
The ground’s less dry.

One drop was my wish,
So down I go,
To wash my self.
In my own sorrow.

I feel like giving up,
I lay my body down.
My hope is one ounce,
It’s nearly over.

I look to the sky,
And saw my hope.
It was really there,
A very small cloud.

My hope rose high.
I knew it now,
Though it’s small,
I know it will grow.

I look down
To the dry ground
And tell it now
That it will soak.

The ground gets wet
But I have no more tears.
So I look above,
And my town is saved…………