Oh well the rain it never stops here

Is it strange that I no longer see

The hand in front of my face

Just short of longing for the past

And short of asking for forgiveness

You read my palm and suggested

That I find a new apartment

All of our sleepless nights came

Crashing through the window

Now you know

What it means to fly

Now you understand

The witness' dull surprise

My dear just show me where it hurts

And I'll draw blood to make it better

I will do anything

Turns out the man with all the answers

Wrote from within the asylum

And I guess we should have figured

As his poems contained no letters

He wrote "All of my sleepless nights

Came crashing through the window "

Now you know

What it means to fly

Now you understand

With the tears and old acquaintances

And waiting for the pulse to quicken

Waiting for the day when things turn out

As you had imagined the wait

With the tears and old acquaintances

And waiting for the pulse to quicken

Waiting for the day when things turn out

As you had imagined the wait

With the tears and old acquaintances

And waiting for the pulse to quicken

Waiting for the day when things turn out

As you had imagined the wait

And I had only just begun to speak

With my broken memory

Oh well the rain it never stops here

Is it strange that I no longer see

The palm in front of my face