I am walking 
out in the rain 
and I am listening to the low moan 
of the dial tone again 
and I am getting 
nowhere with you 
and I can't let it go 
and I can't get through... 
the old woman behind the pink curtains 
and the closed door 
on the first floor 
she's listening through the air shaft 
to see how long our swan song can last 
and both hands 
now use both hands 
oh, no don't close your eyes 
I am writing 
graffitti on your body 
I am drawing the story of 
how hard we tried 
I am watching your chest rise and fall 
like the tides of my life, 
and the rest of it all 
and your bones have been my bedframe 
and your flesh has been my pillow 
I am waiting for sleep 
to offer up the deep 
with both hands 
in eachother's shadows we grew less and less tall 
and eventually our theories couldn't explain it all 
and I'm recording our history now on the bedroom wall 
and eventually the landlord will come 
and paint over it all 
and I am walking 
out in the rain 
and I am listening to the low moan of the dial tone again 
and I am getting nowhere with you 
and I can't let it go 
and I can't get though 
So now use both hands 
please use both hands 
oh, no don't close your eyes 
I am writing graffitti on your body 
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried 
hard we tried 
how hard we tried