I step off the train, I'm walking down your street again, and past your door, but
You don't live there any more. It's years since you've been there. Now you've
Disappeared somewhere like outer space, you've found some better place, and
I miss you - like the deserts miss the rain. Could you be dead? You always were
Two steps ahead of everyone. We'd walk behind while you would run. I look up
At your house, and 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 round your old address? And
The years have proved to offer nothing sinced you moved. You're long
Gone but I can't move on, and I miss you - like the deserts miss the rain.
