Raining
©1990 Andrew Calhoun, recorded on Shadow of a Wing.
I was standing in this funky 5th floor studio apartment. Thought, well I can't write a song because I don't know anything. Had a moment, that's the place to write from—not knowing. And still true.
It's raining in heaven and hell
And draining down in to the well
Where water is stored
For the song of the Lord
And the tale for the tongue to tell
I live in a foreign land
Where I search for the missing band
That disappeared slowly
Through moments unholy
With a weight that I still can't stand
My heart is a wounded bird
Which sings where the murder occurred
Of who knows what happened
The fall and the trap
And the page with a torn-out word
This world is the world we knew
Where the dream and the flowers grew
In this same green yard
Where it's harder and harder
To make that world hold true
All things have an end, they say
As if May were the same as May
Our unspoken trust
Will not meet the dust
Though the body must go that way
Imagine one real friend
And time with an open end
A life long as good
Well I will if I would
Win a world with a will to bend
It's raining in heaven and hell
And draining down in to the well
Where water is stored
For the song of the Lord
And the tale for the tongue to tell