Snapshots At St. Arbuck’s ™

Why are the streets always wet in the movies
I have my own theory, but I was wondering if you knew

It’s kind of quiet out tonight
Looks like I may be the only one who can’t sleep
It won’t be the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last

I think it’s because of the tears
You know, the wet streets
All those forlorn, timeworn and world-weary
Phone-talking
TV-watching
Net-surfing
Quietly desperate ones
Just sitting, waiting for the dawn

Watercolor dreams
Left out in the rain
Washed away
Run away into the night
And down the wet streets
In the night scenes
And the night seems to never end

Bus stop-waiting shell of a man
Burned out, used up
Strung out
There is no doubt
In his misty eyes I can see it
Try to run away before it takes me
Can’t let it break me

We grow older
Edge closer
To consider the fragments left behind
While the years pass
Taking from our lives a heavy toll

After midnight
That’s when the tears begin to fall
Then drop by soul-wringing drop they run together
Until the night is saturated in a mist of sorrow

No wonder the streets are wet