It's like home if you were here.
And there's no hope for the lame.
Even though they suffer a great deal of pain and property.
And do they feel what I'm feeling?
...
Woe sorrow is just a trial.
Endless hurricanes and bridges falling.
Who'd remember these times of sad?
People hanging their sorry heads.
...
I sigh and lift the covers over my head
the rain pours down outside it stopped
then I wonder to my amazement my surprise
I see a familiar face standing in the doorway
...