When it first began
In the light of sacred things
And you felt oblivious to any sort of pain
When it first began to rain
Then there came the steady flow
Slowly like a flood
Sweeping over everything and turning into mud
Why?
Is there nothing sacred left, nothing to hold on to?
Is there no way to make it up, nothing that you can do?
You believe what you want to believe
Not so long ago
It was as perfect as the snow
You can never know what things
May come to spoil your dreams
And to hurt you as they have
Do you hear the rain
So insistent on the windowpane?
A reminder of a night when everything was changed
Why?
Is there nothing sacred left, nothing to hold on to?
Is there no way to make it up, nothing that you can do?
You believe what you want to believe
When the light of morning comes
You see the damage done
And you know how many things
May never be the same
There you will remain
In the ruin after the rain
The ruin after the rain
Sunday, may 12, 1996
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