Mum and Dad are home
Sitting round the table
Dad's got his face buried in his hands
Never seen Dad cry
Didn't think that he was able
Gravel on the drive, washed away again
And with skin off his fingers
Still the rain comes down
Another week just waiting
As he looks down at his hands

Tell the rain to stop falling
Tell the banks to stop calling
Tell the politicians where they can put their plans
Tell the day to hold on longer
Tell our sons we can't be bothered
And then tell these hands to give up on the land
Tell these hands.

Better take a look
Rain might be gone by morning
Are you coming for a drive, we wont be long
Arm out the window
'Giving In' on the radio
Funny how that rain cant deep us in

And with skin off his fingers
Still the rain comes down
They're driving through the inches
On a track of flooded ground

Tell the rain to stop falling
Tell the banks to stop calling
Tell the politicians where they can put their plans
Tell the day to hold on longer
Tell our son's we can't be bothered
And then tell these hands to give up on the land
Tell, tell these hands

Go on and tell these hands
Go on and tell these hands
Tell these hands