Oh, I come from a land, from a faraway place, where the lumberjacks' trucks roam. Where the rain wets your hair and it covers your face, constant downpour, but hey, it's home. When the clouds from the east, and the cold from the west, and the wet window glass is right, come on down, stop on by, hop a bus and ride to a rainy Washington night! Washington nights, just like Washington days, more often than not, are rainier than rain, in a lot of good ways. Washington nights, with the Washington moons. A vampire, James, would bite and bite hard, out there in the woods.