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've been 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 when we leave 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 through

and now 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
how hard we tried

how hard we tried