i could stay asleep forever hearing the falling raindrops hitting the asphalt, the roofs, the leaves
it‘s like those sounds make me lose my halt my proofs my thieves
who rob me of my golden slumber from night to night
keeping me from dreaming and making me want to hold someone tight
making me long for another presence in my chamber,
but on the other hand i dont need such a close neighbor
just for the sake of having one, what‘s the point?
so you‘re not the only one smoking your good night joint?
before you let yourself comfortably fall into your bed
act like spoons and then you switch off the light in your head
and while you sleep the skies start to wheep and drop waters that if they were collected were as deep
as the pacific ocean and you perceive the tranquillising sounds subconsciously as they are making you dream of devotion
so you suddenly feel so much for the person sleeping next to you as if you were under some type of love potion
but you dont have the slightest notion
that the rain makes you fall, the rain makes you call especially when you‘re drunk and want to make out on someones trunk
under a sky of countless stars you were black, they were white and together you were like a skunk
the appearance seems lovely, almost as if it was above everything we see
but the inside of this animal bears a hideous surprise
if you stress the skunk too much it will put away it‘s pretty disguise
it will let you realize you‘re now covered with the fear, the tricks the lies
and nothing seems to help, you’re the only one to blame
the only thing you can pray for are seven years of rain
so why is it that we‘ve lost the ability to be on our own
why is it that we fright everything that to us is yet unknown?
why‘s everything we can is to postpone the thing we were afraid to do
just to sit together with our friends and not alone
still you‘re lonely, it‘s only you and no one else
and the sound of distant, swinging bells announcing your doom
and you see your life flashing by you from the time you spent in your mothers womb to the time when you‘re gonna lay motionless in your own tomb
«wait» you tell yourself, i dont want this to happen any time soon
so you start to feel a fire, a strange, burning desire
to free yourself from this heavy chain
to wash out this nasty stain
you need seven years of rain
change oh what a strange thing you are
taking people away, so goddamn far
you make them feel stray, so they drive by car
to help themselves find a place where they belong
leave no trace, be afraid that what they‘re doing is wrong
rather than really questioning their decisions
they are trying to handle the by them caused divisions
from people who should have stayed, some who should have left
by the first ones you get laid
the second ones you could charge of theft
but i guess it‘s in your hands who is in your life, you decide who becomes your husband or wife or who you‘ll one day stab with a knife maybe it will be them and then you‘ll have to go to jail, it will take you ages to come out like a snail, you’ll then decide to learn how to sail until one day you bail and realize what you did with your life is a big fat fail
laying in bed and it‘s just the two of you, you and your brain
and as you start to hear the gentle knocking on the roof your mind starts to drain
and you realize that the only thing that can keep you from going insane
are seven years of rain