A ballad with Danish lyrics, about summer rain and how it reflects the actions of some people, who do not really give you anything..
Story behind the song
I was a bit annoyed, as the announced amount of rain did not really help out with watering my outside plants and pots. It was so hot and windy, that the rain evaporated before it could do any good. For some reason I compared it to the way some people seem to have a lot to give, but actually they only let you scratch the surface and never let you in.
Lyrics
(English lyrics below)
Når jeg tænker på dig,
tænker jeg på sommerregn:
Det gi'r for lidt og kommer ofte i vej'n.
Man har inviteret til grill og i en feber
købt den allerstørste Weber.
Så drypper det lige tilpas til at det er for meget.
Og du var også altid for meget.
En sten i i de nye sko, der også gnaved' i hælen.
En uro i maven, en hudafskrabning på sjælen.
Sommerregn, i små pytter på gaden.
Bløder lidt op, men kun på overfladen.
Det trænger ikke rigtig ind.
Sommerregn, regn i anførselstegn.
Lader som om, men er væk før den rigtig kom.
Måske var der dybde i dit sind.
Men du talte altid kun om vejr og vind.
Når jeg tænker på dig,
tænker jeg på sommerregn:
Det gi'r for lidt og er altid i vej'n.
Du var inviteret og kom til min fest,
men stod snart for dig selv.
Det var ik' fordi vi ikke prøved', det var bar' uden held.
For du var simpelthen lidt for meget.
En sten i i de nye sko, der også gnaved' i hælen.
En uro i maven, en hudafskrabning på sjælen.
Sommerregn, jeg forstod ikke helt leg'n.
Du dryppede ord rundt omkring, men gav os ingenting.
Ikke noget der trængte ind.
Sommerregn, jo du æltede da lidt i dej'n.
Men bagte ikke noget, den del havde du misforstået.
Måske var der noget du ku' gi'.
Men det sad fast og du slap det ikke fri.
(English)
When I think of you,
I think of summer rain:
It doesn't give enough and often gets in the way.
You've invited someone to a barbecue and in a fit of rage
bought the biggest Weber.
Then it drips just enough to be too much.
And you were always too much too.
A stone in your new shoes that also gnawed at your heel.
An uneasiness in your stomach, a skin abrasion on your soul.
Summer rain, in little puddles on the street.
Blots up a little, but only on the surface.
It doesn't really penetrate.
Summer rain, rain in quotation marks.
Pretends to be, but is gone before it really comes.
Maybe there was depth in your mind.
But you always only talked about the weather and wind.
When I think of you,
I think of summer rain:
It doesn't give enough and always gets in the way.
You were invited and came to my party,
but soon found yourself on your own.
It wasn't because we didn't try, it was just without success.
Because you were simply a bit too much.
A stone in the new shoes that also gnawed at the heel.
An uneasiness in the stomach, a skin abrasion on the soul.
Summer rain, I didn't quite understand the game.
You dripped words around, but gave us nothing.
Nothing that penetrated.
Summer rain, yes, you kneaded the dough a little.
But didn't bake anything, you misunderstood that part.
Maybe there was something you could give.
But it was stuck and you couldn't let it go.