Earth and Water

You tell me we can stop the rain,
You tell me that we all can change,
You tell me we can find something to wash the tears away... 

And I know, of the pain, that you feel the same as me,
And I dream, of the rain, as it falls upon the leaves,
And the cracks, in the ground, like the cracks are in our lives,
They are sealed, and are now; far away...

Why is it that rain is only fun when it drums violently on a tin rooftop?

Also, I find, not for the first time, that rains are good times for contemplation, colds, soup, and (oddly) listening to heavy metal.