the fountain that once gushed all day
in which we saw our children play
is now dusty and dried
like an old leather hide
which was too dry and brittle to flay
we hear it is promised to rain
and wash all the dry dust off the plain
but the blue cloudless sky
that's been there since july
just mocks us and laughs at our pain
our leaders proclaim their defeat
of the demons that brought us the heat
by going off to summer
while we -- what a bummer
lie dessicated at their feet
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