Waiting for the rain

For the skies lamenting

All around silence

Has its roots sunk deep



My longing lingers

My tresses twist

But in my isolation

All truth is empty



Waiting by the wayside

Of an endless reverie

Where all the things I run from

Are sure enough to find me



Would that love were something

Than a false slavery

To a god I don't know

And to all the things that tempt me



Then in the light of reason

Where truth is empty

The alchemy of sin

Would be revealed



Waiting by the wayside

Of an endless reverie

Where all the things I run from

Are sure enough to find me