Every time I hear the rain.

Every time I hear the rain fall

I think about how much I would like

To share a bed with you

Doing nothing, doing a lot

To share a life with you...

Looking at you, kissing you, making you

What poets do with the muses

Which is the closest thing I know to love.

Crumbling the silhouette to attach the souls

Dismember the entire bed

Start the words with kisses

And wait for the the eternity of your look.