The rain and the silence both fall warm tonight,
I can’t use your name lightly, so whisper shouts tonight,
If I don’t understand what you meant it to be, when will you come back, take it from me?
Monday I’ll hear the words stole from my own lips,
They do much more than just kiss the holy ground.
I fear she is rusting sweet golden Jezebel,
Stains she’s left lately, oh, they’re dark as hell,
I reel from her kiss,
It’s you that I miss.
Monday I’ll find a sparkler in July,
But I will recognise if I saw you now.
October, and leaves fall,
Tree’s barren and you call,
The winter when man cannot stand on his own,
Season when I cannot stand on my own.
Monday I’ll find the things stolen from you and me,
They’re too wonderful to see, and we find them here,
Monday I’ll hear the words stole from my own lips,
They do much more than just kiss the holy ground,
Monday I’ll find a sparkler in July,
But I will recognise if I saw you now.
