When I was young, a woman said
The rain that fell upon our heads
Was made of God’s eternal tears
I trusted this for many years
Until I grew enough to know
That what she said could not be so
There was no briny taste to rain
And tears are made of salt and pain
Perhaps so very long ago
God’s tears fell on the earth below
And filled the seas up to the sky
But now his tears have all run dry
I cannot say the same for me
I still add to that bitter sea
When I’m reminded of my fault
I pay the debt I owe in salt