I am walking

out in the rain

and I am listening to the low moan

of the dial tone again

and I am getting

nowhere with you

and I can't let it go

and I can't get through...

the old woman behind the pink curtains

and the closed door

on the first floor

she's listening through the air shaft

to see how long our swan song can last

and both hands

now use both hands

oh, no don't close your eyes

I am writing

graffitti on your body

I am drawing the story of

how hard we tried

I am watching your chest rise and fall

like the tides of my life,

and the rest of it all

and your bones have been my bedframe

and your flesh has been my pillow

I am waiting for sleep

to offer up the deep

with both hands

in eachother's shadows we grew less and less tall

and eventually our theories couldn't explain it all

and I'm recording our history now on the bedroom wall

and eventually the landlord will come

and paint over it all

and I am walking

out in the rain



and I am listening to the low moan of the dial tone again

and I am getting nowhere with you

and I can't let it go

and I can't get though

So now use both hands

please use both hands

oh, no don't close your eyes

I am writing graffitti on your body

I am drawing the story of how hard we tried

hard we tried

how hard we tried