And it rains here Everyday since I came, And the linen covers rocks And the green finds everything Chimacum rain...
In the soak of leaves And needle tufts and foam, In the grasses and the reeds, And the spilling over stones Chimacum rain... down around down around you... Chimacum rain
I'm spacing out, I'm seeing silences between leaves, I'm seeing down, I'm seeing silences that are his He belongs here, can't have him He belongs here, can't know him He belongs here
It kinda gets inside you, The silences I mean They kinda wrap around you, And loosen everything Chimacum rain...
And it rains here Everyday since I came, And the linen covers rocks And the green finds everything Chimacum rain...
In the soak of leaves And needle tufts and foam, In the grasses and the reeds, And the spilling over stones Chimacum rain... down around down around you... Chimacum rain
I'm spacing out, I'm seeing silences between leaves, I'm seeing down, I'm seeing silences that are his He belongs here, can't have him He belongs here, can't know him He belongs here
It kinda gets inside you, The silences I mean They kinda wrap around you, And loosen everything Chimacum rain...
If you were my man If you were my man If you were my man If you were my man
It wakes me in the morning It drives me through my day How I would treat you If you were my my man
There's a great And lively humour In all of this You know That until You let me in To lie beside Your soul While our skin Can only Pretend to bend And you know That's no touch And you know That's no touch No touch at all No touch at all
And it wakes me in the morning How I want to hold you Yeah
But until you let me in Well, there's no love at
And it wakes me in the morning It drive me through my day How I want to treat you Like a man If you were If you were my man Please be my man Please be my man
If you were my man If you were my man If you were my man If you were my man
It wakes me in the morning It drives me through my day How I would treat you If you were my my man
There's a great And lively humour In all of this You know That until You let me in To lie beside Your soul While our skin Can only Pretend to bend And you know That's no touch And you know That's no touch No touch at all No touch at all
And it wakes me in the morning How I want to hold you Yeah
But until you let me in Well, there's no love at
And it wakes me in the morning It drive me through my day How I want to treat you Like a man If you were If you were my man Please be my man Please be my man
It's the silken, the sound And the cold creasing down Of a lone blade of grass Tracing and cooling down A bare leg It's the soles of your feet Finding touches to breath On the bare naked ground Each step a puddle So soft a sound
Like sandals in hand Climbing a waterfall Oh, how delicious Oh how I want this now It's the slip into sleep With the memories you hold Burrowed and deep Turned like pages The break and release It's the first gust of drops When it's ripening to rain And the flavor is warm Scented like leather Dusty and brown
Like hot desert wind Teasing along your skin Oh, how delicious Oh, how I want this now
It's the narrowing instant When I look across at you And I wish I could be Emotion naked, simple and sure It's the murmur of growth Whenever I'm with you And I don't want to hide In simple elastic Protecting skin
If only I could Stand so before you Oh, how delicious Oh, how I want this now Oh, how I want you Now...Now...Now
And it rains here Everyday since I came, And the linen covers rocks And the green finds everything Chimacum rain...
In the soak of leaves And needle tufts and foam, In the grasses and the reeds, And the spilling over stones Chimacum rain... down around down around you... Chimacum rain
I'm spacing out, I'm seeing silences between leaves, I'm seeing down, I'm seeing silences that are his He belongs here, can't have him He belongs here, can't know him He belongs here
It kinda gets inside you, The silences I mean They kinda wrap around you, And loosen everything Chimacum rain...
Fog is catching in cold round drops And from the rail of his terrace Dripping Some to fall, and some to blink In colors of neon from the signs All along his street
His stairs are wood, and old And they creak They complain when I come And they talk when I go But I'm quiet if I try And I don't stay too long And I go before the morning And the dripping of the fog Is gone
Sometimes I wonder Should I wake him to see All those bright bubble drops In the still slickened streets Sometimes I wonder Has he ever really seen them?
Sometimes I wonder Has he ever really seen me It's so warm and still Fresh coffee and oranges Soon almond cakes He'll sleep till they're done There hasn't been a sound Out from under those signs Haven't heard a single footstep That is rushing to be on time
Colors that are dripping Help to make up for his silence I think of you in green I remember he once told me But when I go As I always must do The color in his day will be Clear...and...blue
Come away, and follow me She will call you from her winding Come away, and follow me She will call you, reminding Come feel along your sides The long cool touch of current Like a far remembered life Come quicken to the now you hear Cutting off from closer years
Bounding into heavy pouring sound Come quicken to the icy sting Sharpening to everything Pounding boundaries
Come away, and follow me On a winding to the sea Come away, and follow me Unwinding to be free And the call of the river A man will answer cause he's thirsty For a far remembered life Of pulsing to a larger rhythm Feeling things that now lie hidden Clean and cold within The liquid taste of leaf and rock The timing to a slower clock Yearning for dampened musty wood
Come away, and follow me She will call you, she knows Come away, and follow me Come taste this life and grow
Dolphin, take me with you But I am bound by the tin That's under my feet And the engine behind If I held you for a tow Would you take me there and back But what is there And what good is back? I don't know
Dolphin, take me with you I want to feel the speed And the pulse of moving Of going away But where shall we go Does it matter, should I know When the reason is to taste Vacillando
Well you live, in a tiny bungalow With a Dutch wooden door, and a pot belly stove You wear marlboro boots and buckskin jackets Sewn by the love of your many ladies' hands
You've been called a hero, You've been called to bed, You've been to be-damned But we'll shake your hand You're like a paper mountain man
You live ten telephone poles and two trees up a dirt road Outside the city line You like delicate ladies with real fine skin You'll touch 'em But you'll never love, that's the way you've always been
You've been called a hero, You've been called to bed, You've been to be-damned But we'll shake your hand You're like a paper mountain man
Heard tell you're half a racoon and half horse trader Taking time to key your life biased high You're wearing curly hair, teasing round your ears With a heavy booted walk tapping low funk blues
You've been called a hero, You've been called to bed, You've been to be-damned But we'll shake your hand You're like a paper mountain man...
