I step off the I'm walking down your street again, and past your door, but you don't live there anymore. It's years since you've there. Now you've somewhere like outer space, you've found some better place, and I miss you - like the deserts the rain. Could you be dead? You always were two steps ahead of everyone. We'd walk behind while would run. I look up at your house, and I can almost hear shout down to me where I always to be, and I miss you - like the deserts miss the rain. Back on train, I ask why did I come again. Can I confess I've been hanging around old address? And the years have proven to offer nothing since you moved. You're long gone I can't move on, and I miss you - like the deserts miss the rain