Tell me a story
Of when you were young
I'll sit and listen
'Till the rise of the Sun
Quiet disclosure
While he always tells
The deepest of secrets subjectively well

I hope it rains when you say my name
And your car's parked far
Step by step
I’ll be that cloud left over your head

You might taste my tears
Might smell that salt air
But at once I could feel that
That old northeast wind
And it’s getting better