the rain but into Sunday's dreams I fall again standing in my kitchen I am turning with a fever in my heart above the drifting summer and the dark
And when I see your sunlit eyes it turns my laughter into stone I wait a single hour before the light unreal and alone Summer's waxing in the air the
hanging like a dream i touched your face and saw the night again and in your arms i watched the stars ascend and sweep a loneliness away for a while
still wet with rain August now has faded in the silence of the rain I remember one Sunday, riding in through the gate Three balloons in a white sky, 1978
