Текст Ron Pope – About The Rain

I woke up in a sleepy airport bar all by myself,
And the waitress stared and asked me,
«may I get you something else?»
So I thought for a moment,

On the plane to Baltimore,
I met a red haired girl,
Who’s brother works in futures;
What that means, I am not sure.
I could’ve sworn
I saw myself in her haunted sea green eyes,
When we landed,
I stood up and smiled, then we both said goodbye.

All I know about the rain,
I learned from keeping dry,
The hardest part of loving you,
Is that you were never mine.

On the cab ride back to my hotel,
I lost the afternoon,
And watched the clouds roll endlessly;
My thoughts returned to you.
I wonder if you sleep well in that bed which you have made,
Or if at night your dreams return to the one you sent away.

All I know about the rain,
I learned from keeping dry,
The hardest part of loving you,
Is that you were never mine.

And the loneliness that’s tortured me,

All I know about the rain, I learned from keeping dry,
The hardest part of loving you, is that you were never mine.
All I know about the rain, I learned from keeping dry,
The hardest part of loving you, is that you were never mine.