I step out of the train,
I'm walking down your street again,
I passed your door,
but you don't live there anymore.

It's years since you've been there.
Now you've disappeared somewhere
like out of space,
you've found some better place,

and I miss you
- like the deserts miss the rain.

Could you be there?
You always were two steps ahead
of everyone.
We'd walk behind while you would run.

I look up at your house,
and I can almost hear you shout
down to me
where I always used to be,

and I miss you -
like the deserts miss the rain.

Back on the train,
I ask why did I come again.
Can I confess
I've been hanging around your old address?

And the years have proved
to offer nothing since you moved.
You're long gone
but I can't move on,

and I miss you -
like the deserts miss the rain

I step out of the train,
I'm walking down your street again,
I passed your door,
I guess you don't live there anymore.

It's years since you've been there.
Now you've disappeared somewhere
like out of space,
you've found some better place,

and I miss you -
like the deserts miss the rain

and I miss you -
like the deserts miss the rain (deserts miss the rain)