It’s been pouring since when? I cannot remember.
“In the drink” now means on land and at sea too.
On the TV we see streets, and on them water is moving.
They’re sloughs, mud sloughs.

Streams. It never rains in sunny California
Screams. That wretched song is now making me sore!
It never rains in California!
It’s getting stormier.
It pours evermore.

On I curse, because I’m so wet.
My whole self is drenched, and I’m upset.
There’s tons of mud and sunken pets.
Water ’round my home.

It never rains in California!
It’s getting stormier.
It pours evermore.
Clouds swirl, and it’s stormier.
Might pour through my door!

I might have to bolt and roam before big waves hit
as the winds whip up, foam water on the lake.
I don’t want to be a drownee.
Soon from the lake, the waves will break.

Seas have breached the streets in sunny California;
seems that water now is pouring through the floor.
If the wets drains from California,
and I’ve been sea-borne, yeah,
I’ll row back to shore.