If only love existed,
if only you hadn’t left.
If only the rain had stopped,
I wouldn’t have met my death.
And maybe the sun will come out
the very next day,
but I won’t be there to see it
laying in my grave.
Still, the next storm I will feel
as the drops sink into the ground;
I’ll hear the thunder calling
as if I could actually be found.
We both know how
the rain will make it real,
so forgive me when I say
we all need hurricanes to heal.
And you should accept that somethings
are not meant to survive the storm.
However I’ll always be with you,
bracing the wind, taking you home.