In my dreams itís always raining,
It doesnít matter where I go
It just always feels the same,
And somehow I always know
That in the blackened city streets,
The gutters overflow
With torn up lives, and crumpled souls,
Beneath the heartless glow
Of simple, silvered streetlight
Shining star-like on the rain,
Where the people wished for daylight
When the daylight never came.
The marble crumbles listlessly,
The dead can never change,
But their names cling on so desperately
To stone, where candle-flames
Flicker always in the windows
Of the churches, where they lie
Casting spider-spired shadows
High against the blackened sky.
In the space behind my eyelids,
Is a city that wonít change,
And the people patch its broken heart
As I wait for it to rain.