Cloudbusting

When you told me about it I laughed,
But then I sat on the grass,
In the sun on the hill,
With my feet in the fountain,
Guitars and chatter bending in the breeze,
Swirling over my skin,
And I tried it.

Then everything was a little different,
Like after a protestant baptism,
When the riverwater dries,
And you actually feel like something died,
And was left in that river,
But it's good and you're lighter,
Like a freshly pruned tree,
That just realized it had been touching the sky all along.